The Love Dare
by KaelynnLovesGerard
Summary: "…he's given me until October 15th," Kurt breathed, feeling tears begin to pool in his eyes. Mercedes leaned farther forward and put a hand on his knee. "To do what, Kurt?" He took a deep breath. "To make him fall in love with me again." AU after 2x16
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so if you've seen the movie 'Fireproof', you'll know what The LoveDare is.**

**A WARNING: If you are offended by the idea of Christianity being repressented here, please don't read and leave rude comments. **

**Reviews are love *lessthanthree***

"Things haven't been going well with Blaine."

At his words, the dark girl in front of him sat up and began to pay more attention, crossing her legs and furrowing her brow. Her gentle, caring face was something he had missed in the past few months, and he was thankful to be able to talk to his best friend again.

"It's…he's given me until October fifteenth," Kurt breathed, feeling tears begin to pool in his eyes.

Mercedes leaned further forward and put a hand on his knee. "To do what, Kurt?"

"To make him fall in love with me again."

Mercedes fell silent at that, causing Kurt's stomach to stir uneasily. Her eyes, wide and shocked, searched his face for any indication of what would cause Blaine to say such a thing.

Kurt sighed, trying desperately not to cry. He had expected nothing less than her complete astonishment. "He and I have been acting differently towards each other for a while now…and now, he thinks we should break up." He paused, a single tear making its way down his face. "And I have no idea of what to _do_!" he exclaimed, the last word coming out in the form of a choked sob.

"Oh, Kurt," Mercedes said, her tone laced with compassion and sympathy. She pulled him into a hug and patted his back as he wept. "Oh, honey."

"I don't what to do!" Kurt nearly shrieked again, his exclamation muffled by Mercedes' fabulous teal blouse. He felt her comforting hands on his back as he shook with sobs. "W-We were fine two months ago, and then everything juh-just fell apart!" He paused, pulling away from his friend as he began wiping his eyes.

"What happened?" she asked. "You two seemed fine the last time I saw you."

Kurt shot her a disbelieving look. "And when was the last time you saw us?"

"Three months- oh," she finished quietly, folding her hands in her lap and looking ashamed. Kurt wanted to tell her that she shouldn't feel bad, that she couldn't possibly have known, but he stayed silent.

"We- Blaine and I- have just been…drifting apart. And after I got drunk at that party two weeks ago and kissed Wes-" he paused, seeing Mercedes try and fail to stifle a laugh, before scowling at her, "-oh, yes, I know it's absurd, he's _straight_ for goodness' sake. Anyways, Blaine said that I obviously had feelings for Wes, saying that 'when a person's drunk, they don't hide what they want', implying that I love Wes and not him."

"That's why you're breaking up? Because you kissed a straight guy?"

"There are other things," Kurt revised. "He's becoming…distant, I guess. Blaine's mom was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago, school just started again, and he lost his solo part to Cameron Pitts. He's been stressing out- as have I- and all of these things are causing us to lose ourselves." He took a deep breath, more tears spilling over his cheeks. "And each other."

Mercedes shook her head forlornly. "I'm so sorry, Kurt." She reached out to take his hand. "I'm so sorry."

Kurt took another shaky breath. "And now I'm about to lose the only boy I've ever really loved." He looked out the window, where the only thing that could be seen was pattering rain.

Suddenly, Mercedes pulled her hand away and sat bolt upright. Kurt gave her a quizzical glance, but she didn't show any sign that she'd noticed his stare.

"Mercedes?" he questioned, but she remained silent, gazing blankly at nothing, her eyes wide. "Mercedes? I'm having an emotional crisis, remember?"

At his words she seemed to snap out of her trance, turning her eyes to him. "You said until the middle of October, right?"

Kurt sighed, nodding slightly. "Yes, I did, but-"

"That's about forty days."

"Yes," he agreed after calculating it quickly in his head. "But I don't see what that has to do with-"

"Kurt, I have to go," Mercedes interrupted him, apology evident in her voice. She stood up from his bed, picking up her purse from beside her. "I'm sorry. I have to get back to Lima…I think I know a way to help you." She leaned over and gave him a quick hug before hurrying out of the room he and Blaine shared, leaving him to stare after her in stunned silence.

"Mercedes!" he finally called out. "Where the hell are you going?"

But she was already gone.

…..

Getting ready for bed was never fun for Kurt anymore. He and Blaine had used to stand at the sink and brush their teeth together, and sing lullabies, and laugh.

But now, with his SAT prep, Blaine didn't reach their room until eleven o'clock, arriving irritable and out-of-sorts. He would always sling his bag onto the chair by the door and then flop down on the bed, barely willing himself to change clothes and brush his teeth. By this time, Kurt was usually already lying down, most likely reading or talking to Mercedes on the phone.

But Blaine's pre-sleeping ritual wasn't the only thing that had changed about their bed time.

Kurt had begun sleeping on the floor.

Kurt figured he should have known that it was a stupid idea to take out the other bed and share with Blaine in the first place. What if they broke up? What if they had a fight? Ever since the middle of last year, up until two weeks ago (when things got really bad), they had shared a bed with each other, happily drifting off in each other's arms.

Then, of course, things had gotten bad, and the night after the kissing incident, Kurt had come back even later than Blaine, only to find his boyfriend sprawled over the entire bed.

And so he had slept on the floor that night.

Thus, a new bedtime routine had begun, in which the main task was setting up a makeshift bed on the floor; a large comforter to lie on, two quilts to sleep under, and his special goose-feather pillow. Gone was the laughing, the playful banter, and singing; in its place was a hard, cold floor and nights of wishing that things were the way they used to be. He had often fantasized that things were okay again, that any minute Blaine would ask him why in the world he wasn't in the bed. Kurt had wanted so badly to believe that things were good, but he eventually found out that no amount of pretending would bring back the singing, or the laughter…

…or the love.

The night after Mercedes had visited, Kurt found himself yearning for one more night like that, one more night where they could just lie there and talk about their day, kissing in between breaks of conversation. They used to always sing to each other, also, and usually Kurt would fall asleep to Blaine softly crooning "Teenage Dream". He began crying silently as he wondered if Blaine missed it, too.

Looking at the alarm clock by the bed, Kurt saw that it was almost time for Blaine to arrive, and he hurriedly wiped his eyes.

_If he caught you crying, he'd think you were pathetic_, Kurt scolded himself, although his heart told him that Blaine wouldn't ever think that; at least, the old Blaine wouldn't. He picked up his phone to check his messages, seeing one from Blaine. Slightly surprised, he opened it.

_Be back late. Have to finish report._

No "I love you"s, or "I'll miss you"s. Just two lines that weren't even complete sentences.

Kurt eventually came to recognize that moment as the exact second that his heart broke in half.

...

**I decided to write this because: A. All the Klaine fics seem to be a little too sugary sweet, and B. I honestly have some hope for Kurt's faith. I was a little miffed that he didn't break the stereotype in that area. Gay people **_**can **_**be Christians. Yes, I realize that it wasn't just his being gay, but when he said that thing about gays not being welcome in church...well, it made me uncomfortable. I am a religious person, and I have a penchant for slash pairings. And it's my dream to be Kurt's best friend.**

**To anybody that's reading this: if there's a church that isn't accepting you for who you are, they aren't real Christians.**

**AND ON TO A LESS SERIOUS TOPIC: Did anyone catch the slight AVPM reference?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, here is chapter numero two. To be clear, you all know that Kurt isn't a Christian yet, right?**

**And wow, thirty-five people added this to their alerts. I must be doing something right. **

**Reviews = love and rainbows.**

Kurt came to believe that the day it all started was September 3rd, the day that his life began to change.

It had begun normally enough; he had gotten up, dressed, and went to class as per usual. Blaine had ignored him all day, not even bothering to sit with him at lunch like he usually did. Kurt found himself wondering whether they would even make it the forty-three days Blaine had unconsciously allotted, the forty-three days in which Kurt was supposed to make Blaine fall in love again.

Kurt thought bitterly that they might've had more time if Blaine's damned parents –who didn't approve of their relationship- hadn't sent in that internship application to _Vogue_. Blaine's mother, being a famous fashion designer, had been able to pull quite a few strings; at least, enough to get the application.

The application, which was due October 15th, of course, was currently sitting on the desk in their room, and as Kurt entered the room at the end of the day, he was tempted to tear it to shreds. Just seeing it sitting on the desk, as if daring him to seize it and rip it up, made Kurt's blood boil.

He still couldn't believe that Blaine had filled out the application already. He had informed Kurt a week later that if things between them didn't change, he'd submit it as planned. If they did change, then Blaine would throw it away.

Kurt wondered idly if Blaine had placed it there to motivate him, to tell him that it wasn't too late. His thoughts, however, were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door.

Walking over to the door, Kurt muttered to himself unintelligibly, feeling slightly annoyed at the disruption of his thoughts. He flung the door open, only to see a freshman, who he recognized as a young Warbler, standing there with a brown package in his hands.

"Hey," the boy said, holding the box out limply. "Um, a girl dropped this off for you, told me to make sure you get it."

Kurt's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And why didn't she bring it to me herself?" he asked, and the boy cocked his head.

"You know we're not supposed to have girls up in the dorms!" he exclaimed, seemingly appalled. Kurt realized his slip-up and backtracked immediately.

"Of course I know that," he said, clearing his throat and waving it off. Kurt would have smacked himself if the boy wasn't standing right there; every time Mercedes had been over, he had had to sneak her in when no one was around, and he sometimes forgot the rule against girls even existed. He tried to seem authoritative as he held out his hand. "Well, hand it over, please."

"Johnny," the younger boy said as he held the package out to him, though Kurt hadn't asked his name. "My name's Johnny." He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair as Kurt took the package.

"Johnny," Kurt repeated, nodding his head as if filing it away. "Thank you."

Johnny smiled. "You're welcome," he said, and began walking down the hall. Kurt stepped back into his room and shut the door behind himself, gazing curiously down at the package in his hands. His inquisitiveness finally got the best of him, and he carefully opened the brown paper, wondering who the hell could've sent it.

When he got the paper off, the object inside slipped from his grasp and onto the floor, resulting in a light thudding sound. Kurt bent over to examine whatever it was, only to see that it was a book.

_The Love Dare._

_What the hell is 'The Love Dare'?_ he thought to himself. _Who sent this?_

Kurt picked up the book, brushing random bits of detritus that it had collected whilst on the floor. He opened it cautiously, and realized who the sender was as soon as he recognized Mercedes' messy script on the title page.

_Kurt,_

_I know you're going to hate me for this…scratch that, you're going to KILL me for this. But it worked for my Aunt Linda and Uncle Jack, and I hope it can work for you, too. If you really are uncomfortable with it, you don't have to do it. But please, Kurt, give it a chance. I don't want you to hurt anymore, and I think this can help._

_Love ya bunches,_

_Mercedes_

By the time Kurt finished reading, he was incredibly suspicious; what could be so bad that he'd kill his best friend?

When he turned to the first page he figured out why.

"Mercedes," he growled under his breath, feeling his face growing hot. He turned a few more pages, and there they were, over and over again, screaming at him.

_Bible quotes._

Mercedes was right.

He _was_ going to kill her.

….

Kurt's tires screeched against the asphalt as he executed the turn into Mercedes' driveway, leaving satisfyingly noticeable skid marks along the blacktop of Hamilton Street. Seeing that her parents weren't home, he stopped the car, throwing open his door and grabbing her gift from the passenger's seat.

Kurt stomped angrily up to the front door of the small yet elegant house, feeling his blood boil slightly in his veins. He knocked three times, waiting somewhat patiently for Mercedes to answer the door. When she didn't, however, his patience began to fade, becoming replaced with annoyance.

"Screw it," he muttered to himself, thrusting open the door and marching into the front room. Without pausing, he trudged down the hall towards Mercedes' room, hearing voices when he reached the entrance.

"Oh, come on!" he heard her exclaim, sounding congested. "The baby is _pointing_ to her! Go, before she dies!"

Kurt tilted his head, his anger replaced momentarily by confusion.

"Well, I did warn you, girl. You should've adopted," Mercedes spoke again, her voice full of sympathy.

Kurt, having decided he had had enough of her crazy-talk, stepped into the room with his hands on his hips. She was sitting on her bed with a bowl of popcorn, watching some movie and crying silently. Confused further, Kurt just shook it off and cleared his throat loudly.

Mercedes looked up, letting out a shriek and tossing her popcorn at him. She toppled off of the side of her four-poster, hitting her forehead on the far wall. Lifting a hand to her injured temple, she closed her eyes.

"Mercedes?" Kurt asked frigidly, reaching up a hand to swipe his bangs out of his eyes. He rolled his eyes when she still didn't look up at him. "_Mercedes_!"

She finally glanced up at him, doing a double-take, before her eyes widened in horror.

"Kurt," she began, standing up slowly. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

He walked over to her, trailing his pinkie finger along the bed in a way reminiscent of a sadistic killer in a horror movie. "Oh, I just came over to watch-" he paused, before glancing at the television and finding himself pleasantly surprised, "-_Steel Magnolias_? Is _that_ why you were crying?"

She wiped her face on her shirt. "Well, Julia Roberts just went into a coma! I would think you of all people would understand my crying."

"Yes, yes, very well, we all know Julia Roberts is a goddess," he conceded, waving a dismissive hand. "But I came because I was curious as to when and under what circumstances you _lost your damn mind_."

Kurt saw comprehension flash on her face, and Mercedes stepped back cautiously. She held up her hands as she backed away, her eyes wide and fearful. "Whoa, now, Kurt, let me explain-"

"Explain? _Explain_? Please, by all means, _explain_ why you would send me this," he spat, holding out the book in his grasp.

Mercedes reached out to take the book, running her hand across the surface. "Kurt, did you even read any of it?"

He glared at her. "I saw Bible verses-"

"But did you actually read any of it?" she cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it quickly.

She pursed her lips and ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek. "That's what I thought."

"But I know what it is, Mercedes," he said with a sigh, rubbing his temple. "It's just going to tell me to pray until Blaine and I get better, and that if I have hope in God, all that crap-"

"Hey," Mercedes said in a warning voice. "Stop yourself right there, before you get me mad. This," she held up the book, "isn't what you think. It's a guide."

"A guide?" he asked, sarcasm evident in his voice.

"Every day, it tells you to do something else for your partner, or yourself, that will make your relationship better. Sure, there's a kind of lesson before it, but they aren't that long. And if you really want to save your relationship, you'll try it."

Kurt folded his arms. "And what about the fact that it's based on your God's word, huh? Will it still work for me? Even though Blaine does, I don't believe in that stuff, Mercedes, and you know that."

"Kurt," she began, shaking her head. "I know you don't want to hear this, but God still loves you, even if you don't believe in him. I can't really explain it, but I think this will help you." Mercedes sighed, sitting down on her bed. "Just- just give it a chance, please? You don't have to pray or anything. Just do what it says to do."

He regarded her with nothing but a stare, contemplating her offer. _Just do what it said to do?_ It didn't sound as bad as he thought. Her eyes pled with him, and as he thought he found himself smiling at her. _What the hell_, he thought. _Might as well. I can skip over the Bible verses._

"My uncle didn't believe in God, either, and the dare worked for him," Mercedes interjected helpfully, though she neglected to mention that he had become a believer halfway through the dare. Oh, well.

Kurt gave her one last, long look, before exhaling in defeat. "Fine," he said, and took a seat beside her on the bed. He pointed to the TV. "Now, let's watch Sally Field have an emotional breakdown."

**What did you think?**

**Next installment: Day 1 of The Love Dare**


	3. Day One

**So, I forgot to explain this, it's kind of confusing...**

**Blaine is supposed to be a year older, right? Well, I knew I'd have to make them date for a while before their split would really be devastating. **

**Does it say in the show how old Kurt is? Or what year he is in high school? I've never noticed, but I may have a slight case of selective-hearing.**

**So, for understandable purposes, I am making Kurt a Junior in this, Blaine being a senior. Now, try not to get too confused...Rachel and the others are also the same age as they are in the show RIGHT NOW, Season two, even though this is set a year or so later.**

**Long A/N, now HERE IS DAY ONE OF THE LOVE DARE.**

_Day one._

Those were the first words to enter Kurt's mind the next morning, despite having tried not to think about it as he went to sleep the night before. He looked beside himself, and, though the view from the floor sucked, he could tell that the bed was already made.

Blaine had already left for breakfast.

Which made the whole 'Love Dare' thing a lot easier, seeing as how he would've died if Blaine had caught him reading it.

Kurt hoisted himself off of the ground at that thought, hoping to quickly get dressed before trying out Mercedes' plan. He groaned slightly; for thirty-nine more days, he would have to rush his usual primping process.

Throwing on his uniform, the small teenager wondered what that day's dare would be. He supposed it wouldn't be terribly hard; after all, Mercedes couldn't possibly expect him to put up with all the God stuff if he also had to paint a mural of Blaine whilst declaring his love through song.

No, he thought it would be much more simple than that.

After tying his tie correctly and buttoning up his blazer, Kurt made a move toward the closet, where he had hidden the book the previous night. He threw the door open, seeing that he had a mere twenty minutes to get to his first period English class and knowing that the ten minute walk to the building wouldn't make getting there any easier.

Kurt groped for the small light switch beside the doorway and flicked it on, before voyaging into the closet to retrieve the book. Knocking aside several shoeboxes, his hand found a square, flexible object, and he pulled The Love Dare out from the depths of the closet.

He stared at it for a moment, wondering if this was one of those things Rachel Berry lived off of, one of those dramatic, life-changing decisions that the diva craved daily in her soap-opera of a life. Shuddering at the thought of being as over-the-top as Rachel in his thinking, Kurt opened the cover.

Pausing again, he played idly with the first page, alternating between turning it and placing it back in position.

_Do I want to do this?_ he asked himself, pursing his lips in concentration. _Is this really going to help?_

'_My uncle didn't believe in God, either, and the dare worked for him', _his mind echoed Mercedes' voice.

Kurt pondered that for a moment. Did he really think that was a good reason to try this?

_Yes_, he told himself. _It means that all you have to do is the actual dare, and not have to worry about Christian beliefs being shoved down your throat. And…don't forget Blaine…the boy you love and will fight for. Do it for him._

His mind made up, Kurt sighed and opened the book, ready to begin. Skipping over the first few paragraphs, Kurt skimmed the page until he saw the section he was looking for, at the end of the little Bible lesson or whatever.

_Today's Dare:_

_The first part of this dare is fairly simple. Although love is communicated in a number of ways, our words often reflect the condition of our heart. For the next day, resolve to demonstrate patience and say nothing negative to your spouse at all. If the temptation arises, choose not to say anything. It's better to hold your tongue than to say something you'll regret._

Kurt found himself slightly shocked by the simplicity of this task. Not say anything negative to Blaine? They barely even spoke anymore, let alone had the chance to snap at each other. Kurt smiled to himself and shrugged, thinking that if this is the first dare, the hardest one probably required him to offer Blaine a Kleenex.

If only that were true.

….

Kurt found himself slightly disappointed at the end of his last class. He hadn't seen Blaine at all, even at lunch, and he was a bit miffed; how the hell were the dares going to work if he never even saw Blaine?

He had hoped to sit with Blaine at lunch and coax some sort of insult out of his boyfriend. Absurd though it may be, he had thought it would be much easier to demonstrate control and kindness if Blaine had said something infuriating, causing Kurt to react with patience rather than angry words. Kurt wanted to impress Blaine, and so far his plan was not working.

As he sat at a secluded table in the far corner of the library, Kurt pondered these thoughts, while thumbing absentmindedly through The Love Dare. Why did Blaine have to be so damn busy all the time? Kurt understood that their lack of contact during the day had been one of the things that had cause them to grow apart, but their separation was beginning to reach levels of ridiculousness.

But it wasn't just lack of seeing each other that had caused them to become distant with one another. At the beginning of the year, Blaine had texted him at least once an hour, saying 'I love you' or 'Wish you were here. I'm bored out of my mind', making Kurt feel cherished; but before the middle of August the messages had become less frequent, and eventually dissipated into nothing a week later.

It wasn't that Kurt didn't understand how busy he was; he just didn't understand how quickly Blaine had fallen out of love with him.

…..

"We're taking things in a different direction today, guys," Wes said later that day, as he banged the gavel that signaled the beginning of the Warblers meeting. Confused by his statement, everyone began to pay rapt attention.

"Yes," Jack, a senior who also helped Wes lead the Warblers meetings, agreed. "You guys are working very hard- "Under Pressure" is pretty much perfect- and we've decided to give you a bit of a break."

While Kurt concurred when it came to their sectionals song being perfect, he felt his stomach getting queasy when they said something about 'taking things in a different direction'. He wondered what in the world they were going to do. He really hoped it wasn't like the last time they'd decided to do something different; that had ended in a whole lot of drama and a trip to the hospital on David's part. The guy couldn't help it; he tried to control things too much. And Bryce Daniels didn't like following orders.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Kurt began listening again just in time to hear what this new direction was.

"We're going to partner up, and choose a song to sing. The catch," Wes smiled wickedly, gazing around the room, "is that one of the partners must play a musical instrument in the performance, while the other sings."

_Yes!_ Kurt thought. He was a bit perplexed by the assignment, seeing as how the Warblers were an a cappella group, but he shook it off. He could definitely use this as an opportunity to get closer to Blaine again; while Kurt himself was okay, Blaine was an amazing pianist. He began to bounce in his seat excitedly until he saw Jack smile, much the way that David had minutes before.

"_And_," he began. "We are picking partners out of a hat."

Every teenager in the room groaned. Kurt glanced around to see Blaine staring blankly at the floor, his eyes glazed over as the boys around him began to get angry. It made Kurt's heart ache to see Blaine so uncaring, so tuned out, when Warblers meetings used to be one of the highlights of his boyfriend's day.

A sophomore in the back stood up. "You're serious? What if you pick two and neither of them play an instrument?" Everyone around him murmured in agreement.

Jack looked at him like the solution was apparent. "We pick again, you dolt." The older Warblers laughed as the young boy took a seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wes called for order and pulled a baseball cap from his bag, before instructing everyone to write their name on scrap paper and put it in the hat.

Kurt bit his lip, crossing his fingers before scribbling his name on the corner of his algebra assignment. He took a deep breath before ripping it off and walking up to the front of the room, the paper grasped so tightly in his hands that his knuckles were white. Kurt dropped it into the hat, catching Wes's eye as he did so. Of course, since he was one of Blaine's best friends, he knew that were growing apart, and Kurt hoped he could use his eyes to persuade Wes to somehow fix the outcome.

But Wes just shrugged sympathetically. All Kurt had was luck to depend on.

Soon enough, all of the names were sitting in the hat, and Wes was pulling out slips of paper. He opened the first two, and Kurt held his breath.

"Avery and Jack," he said, looking over at a small boy seated at the front of the room.

Jack rolled his eyes from beside of Wes, and picked two more names before calling out, "Blaine and…Roger."

Kurt felt his face freeze, his brain going numb from disbelief. _There goes my chance_, he thought as he saw Roger, a rather good-looking senior, wink at Blaine coyly. Fire burned in Kurt's chest, then, and he was more jealous than he had ever been in his life. Though he was often considered to be the more effeminate of their relationship, Kurt found himself on the verge of marching over to Roger and letting him know to whom Blaine belonged.

Unbeknownst to Kurt, Wes had continued calling names, and only about four partnerless Warblers remained. He watched as the final few were called, and then heard his name.

"Kurt and…" Wes began as he unfolded the last piece of paper, "Johnny Martinez."

Feeling his eyebrows crinkle in confusion, Kurt looked around the room before seeing a timid hand penetrate the air. He recognized the boy, immediately remembering that he was the one who had delivered Mercedes' package.

"That's me," Johnny said quietly, looking directly at Kurt. "I play violin."

"Yes, very well," Jack cut in derisively, eyeing Johnny with malice. "You have the rest of the meeting to figure out what song you will be presenting. Go. Forty-five minutes starting now."

There was the screech of chairs against the floor, and suddenly Kurt and Johnny were the only people still seated. Kurt was still shocked, and thought that he would call to tell Mercedes how well _her God_ was helping things along, before deciding that that was entirely too disrespectful.

"I was thinking we could do something kind of different," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and Kurt turned to see Johnny sitting beside him, a hesitant look on his youthful face. "Something that isn't, you know, all pop and crowd-pleasing," he explained further, his wide brown eyes searching Kurt's face for a reaction.

"I really appreciate that you have ideas," Kurt began, trying not to sound as bitchy he knew he would come off as. "But I'm a little too worried right now to brainstorm. I'm sorry," he added as an afterthought.

Johnny nodded. "Does it have to do with that package?"

His question caught Kurt off-guard, and he sputtered for a moment before asking, simply, "What?"

"I noticed that today you've been acting kind of weird. In the halls you've been staring off into space. And," the young boy paused, looking over at Blaine and Roger, who were in deep discussion, "you and Blaine haven't been together, like, at all. I thought maybe it had to do with the thing that girl left for you."

"How-"

"It wasn't, like, her bra or something, was it?" Johnny asked, his eyes growing, if possible, even wider. "Oh, is that why you and Blaine are fighting? Gosh, that's rough, I'm sorry-"

"Stop now," Kurt interrupted, holding up a hand. "Have you been spying on me?"

Johnny shook his head. "No. I just notice a lot of things. People assume that I don't know anything, that I'm just a guy in the background, and I'm an idiot. But then, why would I be at Dalton? You have to be like, super-smart to get in."

Kurt, slightly appalled by Johnny's rambling, just furrowed his eyebrows.

Johnny saw his facial expression, and laughed lightly. "Yeah, sorry. I have a mild case of ADHD, and I tend to just keep talking. Unless I'm nervous. Then I barely ever talk. Especially around older people. Like Jack."

"I see," Kurt began slowly, looking around himself. "But, how did you guess what was bothering me?"

"Like I said, I notice things."

Kurt nodded. "Well, you're right. The item you delivered to me…well, it's kind of preoccupying a lot of my thoughts today."

"What was it?" Johnny asked eagerly, before backtracking. "Unless you don't want me to know, it's your business."

Kurt hesitated, before deciding to trust the talkative yet seemingly kindhearted boy before him. After all, he couldn't very well tell Wes or David about it; they were Blaine's best friends. And Kurt didn't have anyone else to really turn to. "It was…The Love Dare."

Johnny sat up straighter, looking at Kurt in amazement. "Hey!" he exclaimed, and Kurt had to shush him. "I know what that is," he continued in a low, excited voice. "My sister made me watch some movie where the main guy did it on his wife!"

"Calm down, I don't want anyone to hear you. If Blaine finds out about this, it'll all be over."

"Sorry," Johnny apologized. "I promise I won't tell anyone. I swear." He looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Hey, do you need some help with it? The dare thing, I mean?"

Kurt tried to smile as he patted the younger boy's hand. "I think I'll be fine in that department. Now, what were you thinking for this song?"

….

When Kurt began to leave the Warblers practice forty minutes later, he was in high spirits. He and Johnny had come to absolutely no conclusion as to what their song would be, but they had nevertheless had fun. Johnny had turned out to be an endearing, if chatty, kid, and Kurt found himself feeling better about the whole Blaine situation after discussing it further with his new friend.

Kurt grabbed his bag and headed to the doorway, feeling positive and oddly light-hearted. He looked for Blaine in the crowd of teenage boys, spotting him immediately with Roger, who had a foolish, annoying grin on his face. Kurt felt another stirring in his chest of that primal, possessive feeling he'd experienced earlier in the meeting. In fact, he began to walk toward them, until he was cut short.

"Don't," Johnny said softly, looking at Kurt fixedly. "You'll make it worse."

Kurt tore his eyes away from his love, to stare at Johnny. "It couldn't be any worse, Johnny. That guy is flirting with him…and Blaine's not exactly shying away."

Johnny put a hand on his arm, shaking his head. "Just calm down. I can tell you're about to put the beat-down on Roger. Please, don't do it here. If you, like, have to get out your aggression, I suggest kick-boxing courses at your local YMCA."

Staring at Johnny like he had gone mad, Kurt heard someone clear their throat loudly, causing him to whip his head around to find the source.

"You're blocking the doorway," Blaine informed him matter-of-factly, with an irritated glance at Johnny. "I have to study, so move along."

That was when Kurt almost said, '_Blaine, calm down and stop PMSing', _something he'd had to tell the dark-haired boy on few occasions. Before these words left his lips, however, an image was presented to him: the glossy cover of the book that was currently hidden in the closet, and the first few pages that instructed him against doing the very thing that was on his mind at that moment.

So, instead, he just moved out of his way, letting Blaine brush past him as he thought, _Day One. Check._

…..

**The next dare, AKA Day Two, will be much more, well, awkward. **

**And I'm kind of upset with myself for making Blaine's first spoken line a sarcastic remark. Sorry, but Blaine is going to be unreasonable for awhile, just get ready for it.**


	4. Day Two and Part One of Three

**Some exciting news:**

**I'm changing my profile pic on here to the banner for this story, if I can. I made it on Picnik, and it's pretty cool.**

**Read the A/N at the end for some important info about updates.**

_Just calm down_, Kurt told himself at lunch the next day, while sitting in the cafeteria by himself. _Violence is never the answer_.

Of course, if violence _had_ been the answer, Kurt would've taken out his aggression on Roger McKay, who at that moment was sitting at the table opposite his, chatting happily away with Blaine.

Kurt clutched his fork in his hands so tightly he thought he'd drawn blood. Why wasn't Blaine putting a stop to this? Why wasn't he telling Roger that he had a boyfriend?

But most importantly, why the hell was he flirting back?

"Calm down," Kurt whispered aloud. "Get a hold of yourself." _Blaine is not going to cheat on you_, he reminded himself, _or he would just have broken up with you instead of giving you a second chance_. However, when he glanced back at his boyfriend, he wasn't so sure.

"Blaine trouble?" a voice asked, and Kurt spun in his seat to see Johnny standing above him with a plate full of food. The younger boy took a seat beside him, unscrewing the cap on his water. "I saw them sitting together." Johnny nodded pointedly in their direction, and Kurt sighed.

"Yes," he began, looking wistfully at Blaine, who looked more animated than Kurt had seen him in weeks. "It's confusing to see him over there. He gave me another chance, didn't he? If Blaine knew things between us were beyond repair, he should've just broken it off, right?"

"Maybe Blaine's just being nice," Johnny suggested, while ignoring Kurt's last question. "It's possible that he just feels sorry for Roger, because he has no one to sit with."

At his unsteady tone, Kurt raised an eyebrow and motioned to the full table of boys, all of whom were vying for Roger's attention.

Johnny sighed, having understood Kurt's gesture. "Then I don't know."

"It's just so irritating to see him blatantly flirt with someone who isn't me!" Kurt exclaimed suddenly, slamming a fist onto the table and causing Johnny to jump. He wasn't prone to loud outbursts like this, but he couldn't help but think of how good it felt to hit something. "I mean, what happened? Does he not find me attractive anymore?"

A flustered Johnny sputtered out, "I'm sure he does-"

"I'm still the same damn person! We may have grown apart, but that doesn't mean that we can't sew ourselves back together-"

"You're absolutely right, Kurt," Johnny began. "I had a really good idea-"

"-and what the hell is with picking _Roger McKay_? If Blaine were to cheat on me, I hope it would be with someone who's not such a gargantuan prick-"

"Kurt, I said I had an idea-"

"-with absolutely no taste! Honestly, he watches _Beer League_ once a week with his band of _hooligan lacrosse players_-"

"KURT!"

At Johnny's eruption, Kurt fell silent, staring at the freshman in slight amazement.

Johnny smirked. "Thank you. Anyways, I had this idea of how to help you with Blaine…and ace our song."

"And what is this marvelous idea of yours?" Kurt asked, his voice still laced with annoyance and anger.

"Well, sing to him. For the performance, I mean. Make sure he knows that you're singing for him, and only him. I thought My Chemical Romance's 'I Don't Love You' would be good-"

"Johnny!" Kurt exclaimed, looking at him like he was mad. "I can't very well sing a song entitled 'I Don't Love You' and expect Blaine to come rushing into my arms!"

Johnny huffed. "Well, we have to have this freaking song by day after tomorrow! What do you suggest? Something slow, or fast? I still think…"

He began to trail off as he caught sight of Kurt's face. The expression displayed on Kurt's features was one of intense realization, and Johnny was confused.

"What is it?" he asked curiously. "What are you thinking about?"

"Johnny," Kurt began slowly, a smile spreading over his lips. "I think I know what I'm going to do."

….

_Today's Dare:_

_In addition to saying nothing negative to your spouse again today, do at least one unexpected gesture as an act of kindness._

'_What is desirable in a man is his kindness.' (Proverbs 19:22)_

Scowling at the Bible verse, Kurt shut the book in his hands, wondering what he'd do for that day's dare. It was almost time for Blaine to get home from his SAT prep, and he couldn't help but panic slightly.

He toyed with the pages of the book lightly, thinking. It was almost eleven, so he didn't have much time to come up with a fantastic act of kindness that would prove his love to Blaine.

After lunch that day, Kurt had been feeling even more distressed with the situation; how was he supposed to get Blaine to fall in love with him again if there was zero cooperation from his boyfriend?

At that moment the door opened, and Blaine walked in as Kurt hid the book behind his back. Blaine set his bag on the floor and threw himself on the bed, burying his face in the pillow.

Kurt coughed to cover the sound of his dropping the book on the floor, before kicking it under the bed. Walking slowly over to Blaine's nearly lifeless form, he cleared his throat.

"How'd it go?" he asked in a voice that didn't sound like his own.

Blaine groaned. "_Terrible_. My back is killing me."

Suddenly, an idea sparked in Kurt's mind. He nearly gasped in realization, ecstatic that he had figured out a way to complete that day's dare.

"Would you like me to give you a back rub?"

Blaine sat up at that, giving Kurt a confused glance that looked almost annoyed. Kurt really couldn't blame him; he almost never did anything with or to Blaine anymore, and suddenly offering a service that required close touching was bound to puzzle him.

"Um," Blaine began, getting on his knees, his movement bouncing the mattress below him slightly. "Sure."

You can do this, Kurt thought as he got on his knees behind Blaine. Blaine slowly took off his blazer, tie, and shirt, and Kurt couldn't help but become inarticulate as he saw his muscular physique for the first time in what seemed like ages.

Throwing the clothing onto the floor, Blaine blushed. "Okay. I'm ready."

You can do this, Kurt thought again, as he began to knead the muscles on Blaine's back and shoulders. He was slightly nervous; he'd never given anyone a back massage before.

Blaine suddenly groaned, and Kurt stiffened.

"What? Are you okay?" he asked frantically, taking his hands off of the shorter boy as if they'd been badly burned.

"Yeah, just- just try not to hit that spot again."

"Okay," Kurt said, placing his hands once again on Blaine's back. He worked the muscle in Blaine's shoulder, as if testing the waters. "Was that better?"

"Just a little to the left-"

Kurt moved his hands again, farther over his shoulder. "This?"

"No- too far- ow!"

Moving his hands again, Kurt asked, "What about this?"

"Left…now a little to the right-"

"Here?" Kurt asked, and accidentally jolted forward from his precarious position on his knees. His hands slid all the way down Blaine's chest reminiscent of a hooker trying to get a man's motor going. "Oh, sorry…"

"Stop." Blaine's voice was harsh as he uttered the single syllable, before breaking out of Kurt's grasp. "You're just going to make it worse."

Blaine stood up, huffing. Without dressing, he stalked out of the room, presumably to go shower. He slammed the door on his way out, and the sound resonated in Kurt's eardrums for a minute straight.

Not even caring if Blaine were to walk back into the room, Kurt pulled his knees to his chest, his face crumpling.

'_You're just going to make it worse', _his mind echoed Blaine's voice, and he bit his lip.

"I think I already have, Blaine," Kurt said to the empty room, a single tear falling from his face to the bedspread below.

…

"Kris Allen?"

Smiling excitedly, Kurt nodded a brief yes to Johnny, who in turn just shook his head, obviously not understanding what he was getting at.

"I'm not sure, Kurt…how will my violin fit into a Kris Allen song?" he asked, his tone doubtful.

Sighing, the older boy got off of his bed to pull his laptop off of the desk. He pressed the power button and smiled over at Johnny. "Well, I think I've found a song that will showcase your talents on violin, and mine on piano. Of course, I'll be singing-"

"But, Kurt," Johnny cut him off. "Only one of us can play an instrument."

"I only recall them specifying that one plays while the other sings."

Johnny's brows furrowed. "That's what I just said…"

"Johnny, I'm sure if I ask them nicely, they will give us permission to both play." Kurt sighed again, turning to his computer. He pulled up his iTunes and browsed the library until he found the song he was looking for, before pressing play.

'_Life's been blindin' me_

_From what I thought I'd see_

_Is there clarity in this insanity? (yeah)_

_What's she want from me? (yeah)'_

"Of course," Kurt interjected after this much of the song had played, pausing it, "I will alter the lyrics slightly to 'what's he want from me'."

Johnny nodded in understanding, and leaned over Kurt to play the song again.

'_Roads in front of me_

_Takin' me astray_

_Are you leaving me?_

_Or are you leading the way?_

_Can you hear what I'm saaayin'?'_

Kurt's eyes filled with moisture, and a familiar pain coursed through his chest as Kris Allen began to sing the chorus:

'_I need to know_

_I need to know'_

That pain was heartbreak.

'_I need to knoo-o-oow_

_I need to know'_

Kurt pressed the pause button again, smiling tentatively at Johnny, eagerly awaiting his reaction. He wiped away the tears in his eyes, scolding himself for being such a maudlin person, so that he could survey Johnny's response to the song.

"Wow," was all Johnny said.

"'Wow'?" Kurt asked in disbelief, thinking that Johnny's shocked feedback was a bad thing. "Is that all you think about it?"

"I mean wow as in, like…_wow_."

Finding himself annoyed, Kurt slammed his laptop shut before carrying it over to his desk, cursing under his breath all the while. "Well, if you don't like it, I suppose we could choose something you'd like to do," Kurt said coldly, zipping up his computer in it's case.

"No!" Johnny suddenly exclaimed, and Kurt whirled, confused. "It's freaking perfect, why the hell would you want to do something I suggested?"

"I thought you didn't like it," Kurt said, his eyebrows knit close together.

"Did you not understand the meaning of 'wow'?"

Kurt snorted. "I'm sorry that I don't speak in disjointed phrases consisting of one syllable. If you like to converse in such a manner, I recommend visiting my brother, Finn."

Johnny let out a high, reedy chuckle. "Whoa, calm down there, horsey! No need to get all time-of-the-monthy on me, here. I liked it, and it fits _really well_. I don't necessarily think it will make Blaine just, you know, throw himself on you and ravage you, but I think it'll show him how serious you are about your relationship."

Somewhat stunned, Kurt uttered, "That was surprisingly deep, Johnny."

Sniffing smugly, Johnny countered, "I try."

"Yes, I'm sure your psychological expertise wins over all of the ladies."

Johnny laughed. "Not really. But, hey, speaking of-" he paused, glancing at his watch "- I happen to have a date, Mr. Know-it-all." Standing, Johnny grabbed his coat and bookbag, before turning back to Kurt. "Oh, and I meant to ask before: what's today's dare?"

Kurt sighed, obviously disenchanted with the thought of trying to once again fulfill the challenge given to him, after the previous day's embarrassment. Nonetheless, he got off of the bed and lifted the mattress to reveal the book, which was slightly rumpled from supporting the weight of an eighteen-year-old boy. Opening the book to Day 3, he began to read aloud:

"'_Whatever you put your time, energy, and money into will become more important to you. It's hard to care for something you are not investing in. Along with restraining from negative comments, buy your spouse something that says, "I was thinking of you today_"'."

_Oh no_.

"Damn it," Kurt breathed. He groaned. His car was in his dad's shop back in Lima; how was he going to buy something for Blaine?

An idea sparked in Kurt's mind as he remembered something that Johnny had told him; though only fifteen years old, he had gotten a car soon after getting his permit in the summer. Perhaps...

Lacking his normal eloquence, he muttered, "Um, Johnny, could you-"

"Already on it," the freshman sighed, obviously thinking along the same lines as Kurt, and pulled out his cell phone to cancel his date.

**So yeah. As for why Johnny has a car, his family is wealthy, like the families of most Dalton boys.**

**BUT UPDATE INFO:**

**I am happy to say that once again, my Big Time Rush fanfiction is active. The only bad thing is, balancing two fanfics at the same time requires free time, and plenty of it.**

**If you've read my Big Time Rush fic, you'll know that I have a LOT of extracurriculars.**

**So, updates will be kind of hectic, but I'll try to squeeze them in every time I have the chance.**

**And another thing: yeah, I know, it's Big Time Rush. Don't make fun. My first BTR story has over forty thousand hits. Get it.**

**AND LASTLY: No, I will not be 'forgetting about this fic', as I believe one reviewer suggested. Thank you for your concern, but the only time I've 'forgotten' about a fic was an Outsiders story, and to be honest I didn't really care about that one in the first place.**


	5. Part Two of Day Three

**It's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry, having two active multi-chapter fanfics, several oneshots floating around, and WAY too many extracurriculars is not easy on my updating schedule.**

**Oh, and has anyone else had problems with their story traffic? Because it says that NO ONE has gotten on one of my stories in the past two days, and I find that hard to believe, seeing as how I usually have at least one-hundred fifty hits a day and there've been eleven reviews to my BTR story since about yesterday.**

**Whatever. Here's more Klaingst (see what I did there?). Enjoy, and review.**

**P.S. The latter half is kind of Blaine POV. I've never done it before, be gentle. I'll later explore his conflicting emotions about his parents, especially his mother.**

**...**

One of the problems with having a boyfriend like Blaine was that he had always been ridiculously hard to buy gifts for.

This is what Kurt Hummel was thinking as he walked through the Westerville Wal-Mart, idly touching various items as he passed by them. Every few feet, he would stop to look at some sort of potential gift, before rejecting them, either because Blaine already owned it or because it wasn't personal enough.

For Blaine's birthday the previous July, Kurt had decided that a good, old-fashioned serenade outweighed any material item. Mostly because Blaine's wealthy family could afford whatever their hearts desired, but that was beside the point. A song seemed much more…intimate, and as Kurt strode through the large super-center, he couldn't help but wonder if there was a possibility that anything would prevail over crooning to his boyfriend.

"Now, think about this," Johnny said when Kurt voiced his opinions aloud. He'd been tagging along behind Kurt for nearly two hours, and lethargy was beginning to seep into his tone. "The book didn't say it had to be something, like, amazing. It just said that the present had to let Blaine know that you were thinking of him. Which, you could probably tape our trek around this _frigging Wal-Mart_, burn it to DVD, and give it to him. If that isn't dedication, I don't know what is-"

"Shh," Kurt said, putting a finger to his lips, signaling to the younger boy that he should stop talking. "Do you hear that?"

His eyebrows knit closely together, Johnny shook his head. "I only hear a baby crying, wh-"

"Shh!" Kurt hushed him again, more aggressively this time.

"What? I don't hear anything!"

Kurt walked forward a few steps, craning his neck, and put a cupped hand to his ear. He leaned toward the music section, where he and Johnny, oddly enough, hadn't been to yet. "You don't hear that?" he hissed.

"No!"

Kurt looked around himself, biting his lip. Before Johnny could ask what the hell was going on, the petite seventeen-year-old had taken off in the direction of the large CD racks a few yards away.

"Oh, man," Johnny sighed, rubbing his temple and walking over to stand beside the older boy. "Kurt! What are you-"

"Shh!" Kurt's face was intent on something in front of him, his eyes widening. He felt jubilant at the sight of the small square before him, and was on the verge of squealing.

"I swear, for the love of all that is good and holy, if you shush me again I will-"

"Shh!"

"Kurt! Didn't you hear-"

"I can't believe it!" Kurt exclaimed, utter elation apparent on his dainty features. His cheeks were even more flushed than normal, and he clapped his hands excitedly. Kurt's eyes were focused on a CD that was sitting on the rack.

Johnny looked closer, observing the several scratches and cracks in the case. He pulled away, squinting at the title. "Patrick Park?"

Kurt nodded vigorously, ecstatic. "Yes."

"Okay…wait, how the _hell_ did you hear that?" At his question, Kurt pointed to the speakers above the CD rack, which were emitting sounds of an oddly folksy song. He nodded but found himself still confused. "But what does that have anything to do with anything? I mean, sure, the cover's cool and all, and that guy looks pretty rough, like he knows what it's like to live a hard life, and-"

"Stop. Forever." Kurt picked up the CD and cradled it gently, wondering if Johnny understood just how crucial it was to the completion of The Love Dare. "This is what I'm buying for Blaine."

Johnny's face was puzzled again. "What good is a scratched-up, cracked CD gonna do?"

"Patrick Park is only one of his favorite artists. He's not very well-known, and I have no taste for his unique, indie-folk-hybrid style. But Blaine adores him, and has been looking for this particular CD for two years."

"How-"

"-he's combed every music store that he's ever been in, and I find it at a freaking Wal-Mart." Kurt appeared to be talking to himself, so Johnny didn't respond to that statement, but instead found himself wanting to ask a question.

"Hasn't Blaine ever heard of eBay?"

Kurt sighed, as if he had just been given the task of explaining something to a small child. "Blaine doesn't trust eBay. The last time I confronted him about his lack of online commerce, he muttered something about lead-poisoning and drug boats."

His face still as mystified as before, Johnny tilted his head. "And you think this-" he said, indicating the CD with his right hand, "-is going to help you win him over?"

"Absolutely," Kurt stated, the sureness in his voice convincingly unwavering. "I don't really suppose that he'll just collapse with joy and reclaim me as his own, but it'll put me well on the way to executing 'The Love Dare' without a hitch."

"Whatever you say," Johnny breathed, obviously still a tad baffled by the idea that a CD could win over someone's heart.

Kurt ignored his comment, and held the CD tightly against his delicate chest. _This is actually going to happen_, he thought, and made his way toward the front of the store to purchase Blaine's present, smiling idiotically the entire time.

…...

As Kurt and Johnny were riding back to Dalton after buying him a gift, Blaine Anderson was blushing with fury and swearing quietly to himself, poring over countless stacks of SAT prep books and textbooks, wondering if he'd ever get out of his personal, while knowledgeable, hell.

He knew that his countless hours of preparation were pointless, to some extent; after all, he'd aced the ACTs and every midterm since he'd begun high school. But Blaine was nothing if not painstaking, and he was determined to leave Dalton Academy on top and with a good career in his future.

Blaine supposed his striving to do well also had to do with his mother, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer weeks before. He didn't know much about it; his mother had been unwilling to spare many details, though he'd encouraged her to talk to him about the disease. But he did know that it was cancer, and cancer was never good.

Knowing that his mother had a chance of…_not surviving _(he couldn't make himself think that one word: dying), Blaine wanted to somehow prove himself to her, and try to make her happy for as long as she was able to be. Even if it cost him an incalculable number of hours pulling at his hair and cursing under his breath, and reading about equations, dates, and historical figures until he was blue in the face. Even if it made it difficult to feel anything more than weariness towards Kurt's attempts at kindness.

Even if it made it difficult to feel anything at all.

Truthfully, the studying wasn't the only part of his stress; Blaine had been feeling distracted in classes, his mind often wondering to many different subjects. Solos, student council fundraisers, test prep, homework, his mother's cancer…and Kurt.

As the thought that name, Blaine felt a faint sting in his chest; he knew he'd been awful to Kurt after the backrub incident, and even before that, when he'd found out about Kurt kissing Wes at the party. After his mother had been diagnosed, Blaine just wanted someone to talk to, and he'd felt betrayed; he hadn't been being very pleasant towards Kurt since. And probably wouldn't be from that time until he left in October.

He realized it was rather idiotic, giving Kurt the deadline; Blaine knew that his feelings of love wouldn't rekindle quickly enough, and he would be off to California with the help of his ailing mother's fame and fortune, no matter what happened. Even if Kurt did somehow manage to renew Blaine's feelings towards him, the senior knew that he couldn't turn down an opportunity such as this one. It was _Vogue_, for heaven's sake.

Of course, Blaine knew that his mother's eagerness in getting the application not only stemmed from her wanting the best for her son, but also his parents' wanting Kurt out of the picture.

His parents didn't like Kurt, for some reason that Blaine never could figure out; honestly, Kurt could be arrogant and downright stubborn sometimes, but he had never done anything to earn such extreme dislike from Blaine's parents. On the few occasions that they'd had dinner with his parents, Kurt had been polite and respectful, tossing in witty remarks every few minutes. Blaine had been positive that they would adore him, especially his mother.

So, overall, he didn't understand exactly _why_ they didn't like Kurt; he just knew that they did, and it was partly the reason why an application for a Vogue internship sat in his dorm room at that very moment.

A thought hit Blaine then, one he didn't like.

_Well, why don't_ you _like Kurt, anymore? Huh? Quit criticizing your parents and get your act together, before you go judging other people._

Blaine huffed in the silence of the library, running a hand through his hair for the hundredth time that evening, not wanting to answer the question. The thought made him feel sick to his stomach; why didn't he like Kurt? Well, that morning he could've written a whole list of Kurt's attributes that made his blood boil. But he suddenly wasn't sure exactly why he hated his boyfriend, and he chuckled scathingly; that pondering in itself was ludicrous. If he really hated Kurt, he wouldn't be his boyfriend, would he?

Suddenly, the whole room was ablaze with light, as the sun began to set on Dalton Academy. It cast a warm glow over the stacks of books and numerous shelves around Blaine, giving him a sense of tranquility and calm, the contemplation from seconds before forgotten.

In fact, he felt more at ease than he had in days.

Smiling to himself, Blaine walked over to the large windows that overlooked the front lawn and student parking area, inhaling the scent of old books and sunshine. He rested a hand on the windowsill, before sighing contentedly as the sunlight hit his face. The pleasant warmth and smells of the library surrounded him, and Blaine was completely relaxed.

As the sun began to slip below his line of vision, Blaine let his mind wander, blissfully serene. Maybe he _would_ try to make things with Kurt work. Maybe he _would_ do great on his SATs, and not have to worry about the damned things much longer. Maybe his mother, whom he loved despite her shortcomings, _would_ beat her cancer.

Maybe everything would be okay.

Twilight began to settle over the grounds of the academy, picturesque and surreal. There was one last shred of sunlight peeking through the dense forest, and as Blaine noticed that, he also observed with some interest the car that was pulling into the student lot. He heard the grating of tires on gravel, wondering to whom the car belonged.

The driver's-side door opened, and out stepped Kurt Hummel, looking as chic as ever in a navy, formfitting sweater and gray skinny jeans. Perched on his head sat a beret, and Blaine nearly grinned, momentarily forgetting that the vehicle Kurt had gotten out of didn't belong to him.

Cocking his head and half-smiling, Blaine observed the passenger door opening. A freshman Warbler he vaguely recognized jumped out of the car, before brushing himself off briskly.

Blaine saw Kurt laugh as the boy walked around the front of the car towards him, carrying a plastic bag and wearing a grin. They spoke to each other, both animated and grinning at each other.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Blaine began to feel annoyance and slight unease. He watched as Kurt ruffled the young Warbler's hair, and the freshman threw his right arm around Kurt's shoulders in a seemingly affectionate gesture. Kurt grabbed the hand around his shoulder and held on, smiling over at the younger boy.

They strolled into the school, disappearing from Blaine's line of vision, trying to walk in step with each other and laughing when they failed miserably. Kurt looked happier than Blaine had seen him in weeks.

Something flashed through Blaine, then, and all the peace from minutes before vanished. It was replaced with white-hot hate searing in his veins. He heard his teeth grinding, making a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. He could hear noises drifting through the closed library door; a joke being told, and then a loud, detestable laugh. Blaine was sickeningly certain that the cackle belonged to none other than the freshman Warbler who had his arm around Kurt.

There was a quiet trickling sound as a drop of blood fell onto the windowsill, and Blaine dashed out of the library, forgetting all of his books behind, his clenched fists still dripping scarlet liquid and his fingernails still digging into the tender flesh of his palm.

...

**Whoa. Intense, huh?**

**Sorry for all the angst. I mean, I love a happy Klaine as much as the next person, but...I've always loved writing angst, and angsty!Klaine makes my brain melt with awesomeness. Don't ask me why.**

**And, people, thank you for your kind reviews. On my Big Time Rush story, someone complained because the story was 'too sad', and the latest chapter's writing wasn't as good, which I found offensive because I thought it was better than the previous chapters. I have a feeling it was because of what I made happen- something that made people mad but added more drama and meaning to the story.**

**And this same person has also called me unoriginal...when I wrote the first real story about a now-popular pairing: Jatie.**

**Anyways, my rant is over. Please be kind, and review. Oh, and once again, can anyone explain the screwy traffic thing?**


	6. I Don't Love You And Blaine's Reaction

**Explanation time:**

**This would've been posted like two days ago, but unfortunately, I hit a slight wall when writing. I always hit walls when I get a bad review, which I did on my BTR story, and when I confronted the person, they didn't give a very good explanation as to what was wrong with it. This user was a loyal reader, and my older sister told me that the person probably got angry because I didn't describe the sex that one of the main characters has in the latest chapter. So I tried to ignore it, but when people who like the story just all of a sudden hate it, it makes me question every sentence that I write.**

**But, I hope that person stays away from this story. This is kind of my safe haven, where I don't have to be afraid of you guys. Thank you for being fantastic and amazing. You have no idea how great your reviews are. I thank God every day that people take the time to read my writing, and that he gave me this gift.**

**Review, please. Feel welcome to critique, don't be afraid to after my long message up there. Just have good reason to do it, please. **

**I love you all :)**

...

As Blaine dashed into the Warbler's practice ten minutes late an hour later, accompanied by several "what the hell"s and "dude, where were you"s, Kurt was wondering the exact same thing as everyone around him.

Blaine's hair was untidy, and his shirttail wasn't tucked in, giving him the appearance of someone who has just woken up. Kurt marveled at how rugged and…attractive he looked, but shook himself out of it when Johnny cast him an amused glance.

"Sorry I'm late," Blaine mumbled, unusually taciturn, his eyes downcast. Kurt shot him a puzzled look, to which he didn't respond.

"Okay, Warblers," David began upon seeing Blaine take the only open seat, which was on Kurt's left. "Hopefully, you guys are almost done working on your songs. Once again, I'm sorry that we gave such little time-" someone in the back muttered something like, 'yeah, three damn days', and David, who remained nonplussed, continued, "-but hopefully it was an enjoyable challenge."

He received a few grumbles in response, but Kurt's smile was wide. In the hour he and Johnny had been back from shopping, they had gotten well on the way to completing their arrangement. They were also planning on making an all-nighter of it in Johnny's single room, and so Kurt was convinced that their song would be the most impressive.

"So," Jack picked up where David left off, clapping his hands together, "we're giving you this rehearsal to work out the vocals, since obviously we can't let you all play your instruments. Try to be a little quiet, so everyone can practice. You now have forty-five minutes." With that, Jack stood up from behind the council table and strode over to Avery Stills, who was sitting at the back of the room.

Johnny, who sat on Kurt's right, nudged his partner and nodded to Blaine, who hadn't yet begun practicing with Roger.

Blaine sat beside him, unusually stiff and seemingly distracted. He picked at his thumbnail with his index finger and stared into space, and Kurt's mind turned back to his odd arrival, wondering what was wrong with Blaine.

"Give it to him," Johnny hissed in his ear, pushing his shoulder playfully. "Roger's talking to Wes- just go!" He punctuated his sentence with another shove, and Kurt found himself nearly on Blaine's lap.

Startled, Blaine looked Kurt directly in the eyes, and the younger of the two flushed with embarrassment. "I'm- I'm sorry, Blaine. Uh…I got you something special." He studied Blaine's face for a moment, seeing something burn deep in his eyes. Anger? Disdain? Annoyance?

Kurt scooted over in his seat, Johnny having left his side, and slid his messenger bag toward himself with his right foot. Reaching down and opening the front flap, he removed a crumpled plastic bag. He turned back to Blaine and handed the sack to him, blushing and keeping his eyes on his feet, nervous anticipation coursing through his veins.

He took a breath and surveyed Blaine's reaction out of the corner of his eyes, gripping the knees of his pants tightly. He watched as his boyfriend pulled the small square object from the bag, it's fractured exterior glinting in the light of the Warblers' practice room. He watched as Blaine ran his hand over the CD's surface, disbelief apparent on his handsome features.

Kurt watched as Blaine hurled it at the ground, the plastic shattering on the floor, an expression of anguish on his striking face.

The entire practice room fell silent, tension and shock tangible in the atmosphere. Johnny had frozen in place from his position by the door. Jack gaped at Blaine, who was seething and clenching his fists. Wes and David stood up, looking worried for their best friend and eyeing him curiously.

Kurt stared at the shards of plastic that littered the floor, raising a hand to his mouth in horror. His eyes, wide and glassy, took in the sight of his hope lying shattered on the ground.

Blaine looked up, and Kurt felt tears spring forth at the look on his face. Blaine's features twisted up then, seemingly disgusted with Kurt's crying, and he stood up suddenly.

Casting a glance around the room at everyone, intense rage evident on his face, Blaine dashed to the door. He threw it open, before sprinting through it, leaving everyone in the room to stare after their usually composed star soloist.

Without thinking, Kurt jumped to his feet and raced out of the room after his love, forgetting everyone around him. Through blurry, moisture-filled eyes, he saw himself heave the door open and launch himself out into the corridor, where the only sound was the collective echo of their running footsteps.

Running faster than he ever had in his existence, Kurt sped down the hall and towards the dark-haired boy in the distance, who was steadily slowing, his pace becoming weak.

He saw Blaine turn around and skidded to a halt at the gaze that the older boy was leveling him with, but shouted anyway, "Blaine!"

The teenager down the hall folded his arms across his chest and began tapping his foot, and Kurt jogged to him at a more gradual rate.

"Blaine-" he began when he reached him, but Blaine held up a hand to silence him, his mouth distorted into a grimace.

"Save it, Kurt. I can't believe you," Blaine said, shaking his head from side to side.

Confused, Kurt's eyebrows creased. "What did I do, Blaine? To make you this angry?" He thought back over the last twenty-four hours, and the only thing he could come up with that would anger Blaine was the awful backrub incident. But Blaine wouldn't still be mad at him, would he?

Blaine chuckled humorlessly. "You know what you did, Kurt. Don't try to deny it. You went on a date with that freshman Warbler, and then bought me a present to cover it up. Right? Because that's sure as hell what it looked like."

Kurt's eyes widened with dismay, his mind racing a mile a minute. How did Blaine see me with Johnny? he thought with mounting horror. "No, Blaine, it wasn't like that-"

"Kurt, just shut your mouth!" Blaine exclaimed through clenched teeth. Kurt, taken aback, fell silent after his outburst, his hands shaking by his sides and tears running down his stunned face.

How had this happened? When had Blaine seen them together, besides- _oh no_, Kurt thought, remembering the way he and Johnny had strode into school with their arms around each other's shoulders. Even worse, he recalled the way he had grabbed Johnny's hand while it rested on his shoulder, and how happy they'd probably looked.

He realized that a date was _exactly_ what it looked like.

"Blaine," Kurt breathed, at a loss for words, feeling coldness settle in his stomach at the frosty look Blaine shot him as a response. "We're just friends. I swear that it wasn't anything more. I _swear_, Blaine, you know I'd never, _ever_ be unfaithful to you-"

Cutting him off with a derisive chuckle, Blaine ran a hand through his already unkempt looking hair. "But that's the thing, Kurt- I just don't know that anymore. It's awful, but I can't trust you anymore. Can I, Kurt? After the Wes incident? After what you said to me after I lost the solo to Pitts?"

Kurt winced, summoning the memory of the words he had said when Blaine had gotten back to their dorm room after the solo had been announced. Kurt had been having a bad day, and couldn't bite his tongue against hateful remarks. '_Blaine, you can't always be the star'_, he had told Blaine, who was fuming. '_Sometimes you are so self-centered, it makes me want to scream. You're just like your father_.'

Kurt had tried to put that behind himself as a momentary lapse of judgment on his part; Blaine's mother may have been overbearing, but is father was downright antagonistic and full of contempt for his son. Mr. Anderson would often hold Blaine's being gay against him, and used it frequently to get what he wanted from his son.

And Blaine hated him. That was no secret to anyone.

"I apologized for that, babe-"

"Don't 'babe' me! Look at the mess my life has become! My mother has cancer," Blaine said, beginning to tick things off one-by-one on his hand, "my father hates me, you're cheating on me, I lost my solo, and I spend six hours a day studying for a damn test that's not going to do anything for me! Because when October rolls around, I'm sending in that application, and I'll just forget about the SATs. Hell, I may do it when I get back to our room tonight."

Kurt choked, terror flooding his mind. "Blaine, you promised that you would give me time." He reached a hand out to Blaine, resting it on his chest. "Please, just give me time."

"Why?" Blaine asked heatedly. "So I can watch you fail? Because, Kurt, I don't think there's any turning back from here. We're different people now."

"No! No, don't say that, I still love you-"

The dark-haired boy before Kurt snorted. "Oh, really? I thought you loved that- that _child_ I saw you with today."

Shaking his head, Kurt widened his eyes. "No, we're just friends, Blaine. I love you."

Blaine held up his hand again, pressing his lips together in that pondering way that Kurt had always found adorable. "Just forget it, okay? I've had enough of your explanations. We both know it's not just this kid that's between us now, don't we? Please just stop trying to lie your way around the huge elephant in the room."

"And what's that, Blaine?" Kurt asked, feeling anger stir within him. Looking down, he noticed for the first time the bandages wrapped thickly around Blaine's hands. Noticing Kurt's gaze on his hands, Blaine hid them behind his back. "What do you need to tell me?"

"I. Don't. Love. You. And I never will again."

And Kurt's heart shattered for the second time since Blaine had informed him of their new 'arrangement'. Though he had told Kurt that he wasn't 'in love' with him anymore, he'd never said it so…directly, and Kurt thought he was going to be sick. His chest stung, and tears fell swiftly down his pale cheeks.

"I suppose that I'll stay here until sectionals at the beginning of October. But then, I'm gone to L.A. and Vogue. And your cheating ass will stay here at Dalton." Blaine took a deep breath and spun around, while Kurt's fear was growing with every word he said. Pausing, the older boy turned his face slightly, to where Kurt could see only his side. "I really did love you, Kurt. I just…don't anymore. We've changed so much these past few months. And now I need to move on."

Kurt looked down. "Are you…breaking up with me?" He winced, dreading the next words to leave Blaine's mouth.

But a sigh was what escaped the other boy's lips. "I mean, I know this isn't going to work out…but I'm a man of my word. You still have the deadline, I suppose. Even though nothing you say is going to be able to change my mind. This is probably a stupid decision, but I'm not breaking up with you, I guess." He paused, before fixing Kurt with a look. "Unless I catch you cheating with that _freshman_ again." The utter disgust with which he spat out the word 'freshman' made Kurt wince, but he stayed silent.

Blaine turned an about-face. "Oh, and tell Jack I'm sick," he said simply over his shoulder, and Kurt could have sworn that he saw a tear make it's way down his face. Blaine began to walk down the hall, leaving his heartbroken boyfriend to collapse, weeping shamelessly, onto the floor of the empty corridor.

...

**It was kind of shorter than I wanted, but I hope it was good. I can just picture Blaine being all noble, 'I-am-a-man-of-my-word' guy. His dapperness kills me.**

**Oh, and another thing. THIS IS IMPORTANT. Well, not extremely, but if this story is a little...I don't know, too angsty for you, I have written a oneshot entitled, "Now Our Bodies Are The Guilty Ones**', **that you might like. It was inspired by the song "The Guilty Ones', from the Broadway musical 'Spring Awakening' (which stars Lea Michele and Jonathan Groff). It's full of sexual tension, and one person said that it gave them shivers. It's Klaine, of course, and it's before they're together. It's not smut, but there ARE SEXUAL THEMES, CHILDREN. It was SO FUN TO WRITE. I know, I know, go from a story with Christian themes to THAT. But, oh well. Review, please.**

**And also: I got an amazing message from user Dorogaya after I favorited her story 'Diamonds A Kiss On The Hand'. Here is said message:**

**'-****blink-  
you wrote the love dare.  
Are you sure you didn't click favorite this story on Diamonds { 'A Kiss On THe Hand} by accident?  
You must have. You wrote the love dare. And this othe klaine fic I'm about to read . Itmjst have been an accident.'**

**I am so flattered by the reaction this story is getting. And seriously, check out her fic about callboy!Kurt.**

**Absurdly long A/N, but it's okay. Reviews= rainbows and um...redvines? Yes, I love AVPM.**


	7. Are You Ready To Duet and Do It?

**First of all, I'm sorry for the wait, guys. But this is like three times longer than I originally planned. I just knew I couldn't break it up, so here you go. Reviews, once again, equal rainbows and redvines...and Disney covers sung by Darren Criss.**

**DO NOT GET USED TO SUCH LONG CHAPTERS. I generally don't write such long ones, and I don't want you to be disappointed.**

**...**

"He's such a glayer."

"Agreed."

"What the _hell_ are you guys talking about?" Blaine asked Wes and David, who sat on his bed on the night of the CD incident, and put down his pencil, furrowing his eyebrows in slight annoyance. He hadn't been paying attention, but studying, and the bits and pieces of conversation that he had actually heard were immensely confusing.

Wes sighed. "A glayer. It's a word that I made up. It means 'gay player'."

"Yes," David said, rolling his eyes at Wes. "We were talking about your boyfriend- or, I should ask…_is_ he your boyfriend anymore?"

Blaine considered that, before nodding slowly. "Until October, yes, he is."

"Really? Well, we were just calling Kurt a glayer. Because, you know, you said he's cheating on you." Blaine didn't miss the uncertainty in David's voice as he glanced at Wes. "Which, we still don't quite understand the reasoning behind why you think that your boyfriend is an adulterer."

"I saw him with that…_Johnny_ kid in the parking lot," Blaine sighed, running a hand through his hair for the millionth time that day, thinking about Kurt as he did so. His estranged boyfriend was currently spending the night with another boy, which wasn't helping Blaine's anger in the least. Kurt had left a note explaining that he thought Blaine need some time, and therefore he was to stay alone that night. Though Blaine didn't necessarily want Kurt to sleep in the room, he found himself dreading the prospect of spending his night alone.

"_And_…?" Wes asked, obviously puzzled.

"They had their arms around one another," Blaine mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Wes and David exchanged a doubtful glance, and Blaine felt defiance stir in his chest. "What?"

"It's just…" David began, looking him in the eyes. "Don't you think that you're overreacting a bit?"

Blaine's eyes widened, and he stood from his seat. "They had their arms around each other's shoulders! Are you saying that is normal?"

Wes shrugged from his seat on the bed, looking a bit afraid. "I don't know. The three of us used to walk around school with our hands linked, and-"

"That was a dare that _you_ got us into," Blaine pointed out maliciously, poking an accusing finger at the boy's chest. "And what does that have to do with anything?"

"It means," Wes began, "that Kurt is just really good friends with the boy. If he had any feelings for him, he wouldn't be doing the-"

Letting out a squeal, Wes was cut off by two fingers pinching his arm extremely hard, and he fell silent, shooting David a glare. Blaine looked between the two of them questioningly, his eyebrows creasing.

"Doing the what?" he asked. When neither of his best friends said anything, Blaine folded his arms and inquired more aggressively, "Doing the what?"

David's eyes widened as he scrambled for some sort of answer, his voice coming out squeaky, sounding much different than his usual, proper tone. "Um, the laundry…? He, uh-"

"-said that he wanted to do your laundry to make up for everything!" Wes finished lamely, his bold tone lost on the other two boys. "Yes, that's what he told us. It's a very nice gesture, wouldn't you say?"

Nudging him sharply in the ribs, David shook his head, mouthing, '_Stop now_!'

Blaine's gaze flickered between the two teenagers again, suspicion hidden deep in his pupils. Sighing, he closed his eyes, rubbing his temple and cupping his elbow in his palm. "Listen," he said. "I don't know what you guys are up to, but please, please don't choose now to go all crazy-best-friends on me. I love you guys and everything, and I'd take a bullet for you. But I would forgive myself eventually if I had to kill you for embarrassing me. You haven't ever done anything totally mortifying, and I'm very, very proud that I can say that. Don't ruin it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Wes said, saluting casually and nervously chuckling. "We love you, too, fearless leader." David nodded vigorously, leaving Blaine to roll his eyes.

"Well," he began, walking towards the bathroom door. "I've been studying for, what, three hours? I need a shower-"

"That rhymed," Wes murmured, putting a finger to his chin, but Blaine ignored him.

"-and some time to think clearly. I can't trust you guys not to go through my personal belongings, correct?"

David gulped. "Absolutely," he said, his tone hesitant, and Blaine gave him a small smile.

The two boys on the bed watched their best friend walk into the bathroom, hearing the lock click and the shower-radio being turned on. Glancing at David nervously, Wes chuckled uneasily. "So, how about those Buckeyes?"

Gritting his teeth, David glowered at the other teenager. "I can't believe you almost told him!" he exclaimed, and Wes shushed him.

"Shh, he'll hear you-"

"No he very well won't!" David interrupted crossly. He pointed at the wooden door to his right, behind which Blaine's loud and anguished voice sang along with She Wants Revenge's "Tear You Apart". He sighed. "You know, I knew you wouldn't be able to keep this thing a secret. And if Blaine finds out we looked through his and Kurt's things, just to find the 'Chicago' DVD…" Trailing off, David saw Wes shudder at what his statement implied.

"He won't find out," Wes said confidently, obviously recovered from thoughts of a rampaging Blaine.

Doubtful, David raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that?"

"I don't know," Wes admitted sheepishly. "It just seemed like the thing to say to calm you down." David rolled his eyes.

"Well, we don't have only our seemingly composed best friend to worry about, you know."

Wes looked up in horrified realization. "I hadn't even thought about…oh, for the love of all that is good and holy. Kurt is going to slaughter us if Blaine finds out."

"Not if you can keep your trap shut!" David explained, standing up from the navy bedspread. Beginning to pace worriedly, he bit his thumbnail. "Listen, we both have seen how happy Kurt and Blaine usually make each other, and there is a pencil-shaped hole in Blaine's SAT notebook to prove that he still cares about Kurt." He paused as Wes nodded in agreement, before taking a deep breath. "So, you know what all this means, right? What we have to do?"

"Keep our mouths shut?" The tone of Wes's voice was unsure, fearful of what reaction his words might get out of the other boy.

"We have to help make 'The Love Dare' a success. Do you follow?"

…

"Come on, Kurt, you need to go to sleep," Johnny said at four A.M. on the day of the duet, snatching a notebook out of the older boy's hands. "We've got this song. You know the piano accompaniment, and I have my violin piece aced. And if you belt out the lyrics anymore, I'm pretty sure the neighbors will file complaints with the dorm advisor."

Kurt scowled and glared at the freshman through bleary eyes. "Fine. I don't even know why in the world I'm still doing it. Blaine made it pretty clear that w-we…we a-aren't-" he paused, inhaling a gulp of air and trying to drive back the moisture that had made itself present in his eyes. "That it's useless. Johnny, it's not going to work."

"Well, certainly not if you fall asleep on the piano keys, and the resulting sound compares only to that of a dying cat," Johnny pointed out in an irritatingly bright manner. Picking up the keyboard on Kurt's lap and putting it on the floor, he sighed. "You need some serious sleep if you're going to win back your man tomorrow."

"I hardly think that, if it even happens at all, he will be rushing into my arms tomorrow. I don't even know what kind of place we're in. It's almost like we're…half-boyfriends. Our relationship is hanging by a thread."

Johnny shook his index finger at him. "You can't think like that, Kurt. I sure as hell didn't get into this, only to have you quit after the third day."

"Well, forgive me if I'm a little discouraged," Kurt snapped heatedly. Who in the world did he think he was, to act like he would've handled the circumstances with grace? "If you were in my situation, what would _you_ do?"

"Probably something similar to what you are doing," the younger boy admitted, snapping the catches on his violin case, before placing his instrument inside. "But I'm not in your position, and therefore it is my job to make sure you stay on-task and don't get dispirited. Now, lie down," Johnny instructed as he stood to pull his comforter back.

Kurt obeyed grudgingly, slipping between the scratchy sheets. All at once, though, he realized that he was exhausted; he had spent his night alternating between practicing and panicking, and had interjected quite a few weeping spells amid these periods. Watery and red, his eyes felt heavy, and for once he found himself unconcerned with his nightly skin-care regimen, though Kurt knew he'd regret it at the first sign of imperfection on his unblemished face.

A thought struck him, then, and he sat up in the bed. "But where are you sleeping?" Kurt asked Johnny, who was dragging a blanket from his messy closet.

With a quick twitch of his head, Johnny indicated a maroon recliner in the corner, which looked suspiciously out-of-place. "Guilt-tripped my parents into buying that, after my father accidentally destroyed one of my favorite paintings."

"Ah." Smirking at his friend, Kurt nodded knowingly. "I've heard that prosperous children do have to learn to use crocodile-tears to their advantage. For example, to get a La-Z-Boy in their dorm room."

"Gotta be spoiled once in awhile. It's my job." Grinning, Johnny brushed his dark hair out of his face and spread the blanket over the plushy chair. "For once, sleeping in a single room is an inconvenience. Though, if I had a roommate, I suppose we'd be in the same boat."

Kurt began to tune out Johnny's voice, settling back against the pillows and sighing. Closing his eyes, all of the occurrences from that day (_Well, yesterday_, Kurt corrected in his mind, noting the late hour) came flooding back, until finally the most prominent image in his mind was of Blaine's face, anguished and beautiful in it's fury, as he hurled Kurt's gift to the floor.

He grimaced miserably, all of the light-hearted humor from his conversation with Johnny absent from his despondent train-of-thought. In his heart, he knew with dejected certainty that he was going to fail his mission. If his track record so far wasn't proof enough, one only had to read further into the book to know that the daily challenges would only get progressively harder, and 'The Love Dare' would be anything but a success.

_You have to stop thinking like this_, Kurt told himself, gritting his teeth, willing himself to stay positive. _You_ will _get him back, and Roger McKay will have to find some other boy to sink his claws into. You will not fail, and why? Because you're Kurt-freaking-Hummel, that's why._

As much as he wanted them to, Kurt's thoughts, (which, frighteningly enough, seemed like they came straight from Noah Puckerman's brain), did not help his forlorn state-of-mind.

He turned on his side, wiping his eyes with his hand, before deciding that he mustn't be so negative. "I can do this," he whispered resolutely. "I am going to get back the man I love, damn it."

From across the room, Johnny suddenly called, "Kurt?"

"Yes?" the older boy answered from the bed, confused as to why Johnny was addressing him.

"Shut up and go to sleep. We have work to do tomorrow."

…

Day four of 'The Love Dare' did not begin well for Kurt.

It could have been because of the red, sore look of his nose, or the bags under his eyes, which were the result of staying up far past what were usually deemed the appropriate hours for sleep.

It could have been because of the dare he had been assigned, to 'contact' his partner sometime during the day and show Blaine that he cared by asking if he needed anything. That was most likely going to be a disaster, inciting many tears and unwelcome confrontations.

Or it could have been because he had the sinking feeling that his duet with Johnny was only going to make things worse.

As he walked to his first class that day, feeling unbearably isolated from the rest of his classmates, Kurt couldn't help but want to run to wherever Blaine was and just end things then and there, sparing him the utter heartbreak and sense of failure that were inevitable if he continued the mission that Mercedes had assigned to him.

_Would he run straight back to our room and seal the application?_ he wondered and stepped into his first-period biology classroom, which was buzzing with discussion. Immediately, the conversation around him ceased, and every boy in the room fell silent, looking at him. Their stares ranged from pitying to nervous, and Kurt knew that word of Blaine's outburst had made it's way around school. Taking a moment to collect himself, Kurt narrowed his eyes at the boy closest to him, whose mouth was in serious danger of hitting his desk.

"What?" he snapped in true Kurt Hummel fashion, shooting an icy glare at the other teenagers around the room. "Do I have toilet-paper trailing from my shoes? If not, then go back to your inane conversations about various methods of fornication and the latest episode of '1000 Ways To Die'. I have no time for your gawping."

Seeing their stunned reactions, he rolled his eyes and took his regular seat in the back of the room. Kurt pulled his biology notebook from his messenger bag with a sigh, and mentally prepared himself for all of the sympathetic looks and uneasy gazes that he would be on the receiving end of that day.

The rest of the class was merely a worried blur in Kurt's mind, as all he could think about was the damned Warblers meeting that day, and what would happen at said gathering. The teens around him furiously scribbled down notes for the next major test, but he couldn't bring himself to even begin to try to pay attention to the professor, who droned on and on like a hive full of sluggish bees.

Midway through doodling a large question mark on his study guide, Kurt jumped as a result of the loud ringing of the bell that signaled the end of class. He gathered his things, wondering how it was possible for a session with Professor Burke to move so quickly, and sped into the hall, trying to avoid the eyes that followed him from the room.

Kurt strolled down the corridor, seemingly oblivious to the whispers that reached his ears every few feet. He passed a gaggle of freshman who simply ogled him with wide eyes, and promptly stuck his chin higher in the air, as if to seem like he was above it all.

"Kurt!" a voice called down the hall, and Kurt cringed when he recognized whom it belonged to. He turned an about-face and began to tap his foot as the small, dark-haired teenager skidded to a stop in front of him.

"What is it, Johnny?" he asked wearily, shifting his bag uncomfortably.

"We have a problem," Johnny panted, his face red from exertion. "Everyone's talking- they think you and Blaine are over-"

"Well, we almost _are_," he interrupted.

"-and that we are dating."

Gasping, Kurt took Johnny by the arm as the warning bell rang for his next class. Screw it, he thought, and all of the young men around him began to file into various classrooms, some of them casting a few worried glances back at him.

"_What_?" Kurt demanded, his grip tightening on the thin arm in his grasp. Sucking in his breath through his teeth, Johnny put his free hand up in surrender.

"Please don't _maim_ me, Kurt," he hissed, widening his eyes at the older boy. "I didn't tell 'em that we're dating. Why would I? I mean, it's not that you aren't worth dating- wait, that's not what I meant. Anyways, I don't know how or why people think that, but-" Kurt groaned, cutting off his rambling suddenly, and Johnny's head cocked curiously. "What?"

Sighing, Kurt reached up a hand to knead his temple slowly. "It's Blaine. I'm guessing that he told Wes and David. And apparently he hasn't learned that Wes can't keep a secret to save his life."

"I should've known. So remind me again why exactly you want to win this guy over?"

At his question, Kurt glared at him menacingly. "Because I'm in love with him, and if you'd known him when he was amazing and wonderful and…" he trailed off, unable to think of enough words to sum up the way he'd felt about Blaine months previously. "Well, you would understand."

Johnny just shook his head. "What are we going to do?"

Kurt inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and continuing to rub his forehead. "Well, we'd better get to class. But as to how we're going to handle the gossiping old-maids of Dalton, surely we can disprove their theories today at Warblers, when I kick some duet ass."

Grinning, Johnny let out a loud laugh. "I see that you're feeling more confident today. What happened?"

"Let's just say that starting off biology class with witty remarks should become a regular thing for me."

Johnny chuckled again, and snapped his fingers. "Oh, and what was today's dare? I would've asked this morning, but you were showering when I woke up."

Kurt sighed dramatically. "I'm supposed to contact Blaine and ask how he's doing, or something to that extent."

"What's so bad about that?" Johnny asked, clearly mystified.

"Well, it's going to be kind of hard, as we're not exactly on speaking terms with each other!"

"Text him. That's _typing_ terms."

Instead of shooting down the idea, Kurt put a finger to his chin in contemplation. "You know…that's kind of…genius, in all its simplicity."

"Well, I _do_ have a four-point-oh."

Kurt waved him off, pulling his phone from his pocket, and scrolled through his contacts to find Blaine. Biting his lip, he furrowed his brows in contemplation as he tried to think of exactly how to phrase his message.

Coming to a decision, his fingers quickly ran over the surface of the phone, as Johnny watched his speed with slightly wide eyes.

_How's your day? Do you need me to pick up anything during free period?_

Then he pressed send.

He didn't get an answer.

…

_I think I'm going to vomit_, Kurt thought as he walked into the currently sparsely populated Warbler's practice that evening, gripping his sheet music tightly and wishing that the day would just end already. If the day were over, he'd already know Blaine's reaction, and his heart would already have decided if it could handle any more breaking than it already had.

Blaine was sitting by himself in a corner of the room, looking at the floor, his hands clenched between his knees. Confused, Kurt glanced around the small practice area for his boyfriend's partner, before his eyes came to rest on an annoyed-looking Roger. He tilted an ear towards the teenager, who was in heated conversation with Jack, trying to catch snippets of conversation.

"…and at freaking _midnight_, he calls me up, saying that we're doing a new song. He said that he'd found a better one. I hate the freakin' thing, but I couldn't exactly, you know, say 'no', so I invited him over, thinking I might get in some quality hanky-panky before bed." At that last sentence, Kurt growled inaudibly and wished many assorted means of torture upon Roger McKay. "But, no. All Blaine did was keep me up 'til four, playing this stupid song over and over again on my guitar, and didn't even say goodnight when he left. He may be a _hot_ piece of ass, but he's a little odd…"

Kurt gritted his teeth at the abhorrently open display of objectification. Blaine was not some sex-toy that was to be passed around to assorted other men, and then thrown away like a used toothbrush. _I hate to break it to you, big boy_, Kurt thought, wishing he could say it aloud to Roger, _but we were in love, and didn't even-_

He stopped himself there, blushing wildly, and suddenly the door to the practice room flew open. Almost two-dozen teenage boys walked in, laughing vociferously and horse playing. Johnny brought up the rear, carrying his violin and wearing an anxious expression on his face.

Johnny walked up next to Kurt, whispering, "It wasn't Wes or David. I'll explain later," before taking his instrument to the front of the room and propping it against the gleaming piano.

His eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Kurt decided to just wait until after the meeting to inquire further.

David clapped his hands and rubbed his apparently dry palms together, if the resulting sandy sound was any indication. Kurt thought absently that he should really advise him to lotion his hands daily, but reminded himself that skin-care was not the thing to worry about at that moment.

"Alright, guys. Are you ready to 'duet'?" David asked enthusiastically. "Get it? 'Do it'?" He received several groans and hidden obscene hand gestures in response. "Hey, now. Be happy. You guys complained about practicing 'Under Pressure', so just stop moaning about it. Wes, would you like to pick the first couple to sing?"

"Excuse me?" a redhead in the front piped up. "_Pick_?"

"Out of a hat, freshie," Jack said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Kurt inwardly snorted; he was convinced that, if it were possible, the council would allow that damned baseball cap to sort young Warbler hopefuls into the club.

The uniformed students around him obviously felt similar sentiments, for nearly all of the upperclassmen rolled their eyes instantaneously.

Wes was busily writing the pairs down on small slips of paper, before taking time to carefully fold them in half. As Kurt observed the procedure, he noticed Wes look around nervously. He watched the senior scribble down two names hurriedly, before placing the paper carefully in the hat, unfolded. Bewildered, Kurt watched him repeat the process once more.

David, who Kurt now saw was repeatedly glancing at Wes with that same uneasy look, cleared his throat pointedly at the other boy. Glancing up, Wes registered the look on his best friend's face, and quickly finished the papers, going back to his regular routine of folding them vigilantly.

Kurt, though still perplexed, turned his focus to the task ahead. _You are going to do this_, he told himself, clenching his fists. _You will tell Blaine through song that you want to talk things through, and then he will realize that he still wants to work things out._

Interrupting Kurt's thoughts, David cleared his throat again, but this time at the room full of people in front of him. "Okay, guys. Wes, pick our first duet of the meeting." He paused as the Asian teenager began to feel around in the cap with his eyes closed. His fingers stopped, and he peeked out of the corner of his eye at David, who nodded discreetly. Kurt surveyed this exchange suspiciously, as Wes pulled the paper out of the hat and David declared, without looking at his friend or the card, "Blaine Anderson and Roger McKay, you're up."

"This isn't 'American Idol', David," Blaine muttered as he walked to the front of the room.

As Roger tuned his guitar, Kurt found himself again struck by how different his boyfriend was than he had been in previous months. If he had been like himself, Blaine probably would've jokingly said something to his friend about trying to be Ryan Seacrest, and then laughed with Kurt.

But now Blaine just made his way to his partner in silence. It hurt Kurt to see his love so dejected and sad, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do about it right then.

Roger looked to Blaine after plucking another string, and the other boy nodded at him. Straightening his uniform jacket, Blaine got in a singing stance as Roger began plucking the acoustic version of a song that Kurt recognized from one of Blaine's mix CDs.

Blaine took a deep breath and began, softly and sultrily, staring directly at Kurt:

"_Is it still me that makes you sweat?_

_Am I who you think about in bed?" _

_When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking _

_As you're sliding off your-_

_Then think of what you did_

_And how I hope to God he was worth it_

_When the lights are dim and your heart is racing_

_As your fingers touch his-_

_I've got more wit, a better kiss_

_A hotter touch, a better-_

_Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me_

_Boy, I was it, look past the sweat_

_A better love deserving of_

_Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat_

_No, no, no_

_You know, it will always just be me_."

Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the lyrics and what they suggested, though he appreciated the slight changes. He found himself stunned by the intensity in Blaine's eyes, and the anger he inflected as he sang at Kurt.

Blaine's eyes flickered to Roger, waiting for his cue, and he commenced singing the chorus, a sudden rise in volume and malevolence filtering into his beautiful voice:

"_Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster!_

_So testosterone boys and har-lequin girls_

_Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?_

_So testosterone boys and har-lequin girls_

_Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?_

_So, I guess we're back to us_

_Oh, cameraman, swing the focus_

_In case I lost my train of thought_

_Where was it that we last left off?_

_(Let's pick up, pick up_)."

Blaine whispered the last part, hissing around the syllables, his eyes boring holes into Kurt's own icy-blues. Kurt's stomach dropped at the malevolence that Blaine was putting off, and felt ill at ease when the second verse began.

"_Oh, now I do recall_

_We were just getting to the part_

_Where the shock sets in and the stomach acid_

_Finds a new way to make you get-_

_I hope you didn't expect_

_To get all of the attention_

_Now, let's not get selfish _

_Did you really think I'd let you kill this chorus?"_

Beginning the chorus again, Blaine shot Johnny a contemptuous look, and Kurt glanced over at his friend. Johnny stayed still through the entire second chorus, watching Blaine with a mesmerized look on his face.

"He's going to _murder_ me, I think," the younger boy finally leaned in and whispered to Kurt, his eyes wide with fear. The bridge of Blaine's number was coming up, and he began, with that same, soft tone he'd used at the opening of the song:

"_Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster_

_Let's get these teen hearts beating faster _

_I've got more wit, a better kiss_

_A hotter touch, a better-_

_Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me_

_Boy, I was it, look past the sweat_

_A better love deserving of_

_Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?_

_No, no, no_

_You know it will always just be me_."

Launching into the chorus with more venom than ever, Blaine punctuated each beat by rocking his head back-and-forth. He began weaving in between the seated Warblers, dragging a finger along their shoulders on the way, and stopped at Kurt and Johnny. They both looked up at him, embarrassed, and Kurt saw moisture present in his boyfriend's eyes. Grabbing the backs of their seats, Blaine glared down at them with his intense brown eyes, and Kurt found himself amazed by Blaine's audacity; he was sure that Blaine would never reveal this much of his emotions to anyone besides Kurt.

But Kurt wasn't his anymore.

The last chorus ended, and the song began to come to a close as Blaine tilted his head back and descanted:

"_So testosterone boys and harlequin girls_

_Dance to this be-eat_

_So testosterone boys and har-lequin gi-iiiirls_

_Dance to this beat_

_And hold a lover clooooose_

_Let's get these teens hearts beating faster, faster_

_Let's get these teens heart beating faster_," he finished softly and closed his eyes.

The entire room was quiet as the guitar's strumming faded into nothing, and no one dared speak; everyone was staring at the three boys in the middle of the room. Roger looked at them furiously, as if he felt left out of their (non-existent) twisted love-triangle. Johnny and Kurt exchanged horrified, shocked glances, and Blaine's eyes were still closed.

Someone finally spoke.

"Good job?"

Blaine's eyes flew open, and every head whipped to the front of the room, where Wes sat with a sheepish expression on his face. He shrugged, giving David a helpless look, and clapped awkwardly, disturbing the tense atmosphere again.

David gently lowered his friend's hands, indicating that he should stop now. Coughing awkwardly into his hands, Jack gave the dark boy a questioning glance, to which he just shook his head slightly.

"Well," a blonde council member named Sebastian began, "that was certainly…_interesting_."

Several boys around the room mumbled in response, still not quite comfortable with what had just happened. Kurt himself was still a little appalled; Blaine hardly ever displayed his emotions so clearly, besides when speaking to Kurt, and he had definitely never delivered such a personal performance before.

"So, we should probably call another pair."

This time, the speaker was David, and he and Wes repeated their little silent exchange in which Wes felt a piece of paper and David nodded if he approved. Pulling out a smaller strip, Wes grinned slyly at the room.

"Kurt Hummel and Johnny Martinez."

Anxiety twisted Kurt's stomach in half as he bobbed his head at Wes; to him, his entire future with Blaine would depend on that moment, though he was disheartened even more so than before by his boyfriend's seething performance.

"You ready?" Johnny nudged him in the side, interrupting his thoughts.

Realizing that twenty-or-so teenage boys were all gazing at him curiously, Kurt blushed. He nodded to Johnny, and they both walked to the front of the room together. Kurt didn't miss Blaine's eyes, still angry and intense, following Johnny's back as they made their way towards the piano.

Johnny made quick work of the catches on his violin's case, pulling out his instrument smoothly before twisting a few knobs at the end of it. Kurt took a seat at the small piano bench as he did so, and turned to the keys, mentally envisioning the correct chords and notes to play.

"What? Only one of them can play an instrument! That's not fair!" a senior named Brandon howled defiantly from the back. The reactions of the boys around him ranged from complete concurrence to annoyed discrepancy. A few of them even mumbled several different variations of "_shut the hell up, Brandon, just let him sing_", with a variety of more colorful words.

Kurt felt grateful to those who defended him, and turned to David and Wes for confirmation.

"Go ahead, Kurt," David told him, giving him a small smile. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Blaine shoot his best friend a disbelieving look, and wondered again what Wes and David were up to, exactly.

Looking over at Johnny, he saw that his partner was already poised to play, his bow resting lightly on the violin's strings, looking at him expectantly.

Kurt took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly and shakily, and placed his fingers once more on those all-too-familiar keys.

An image was presented to him in his mind, then, one that pushed all of the hopelessness and desolation that crowded his thoughts aside. Common though it was, the scene that played out in his head was a memory from the very end of the last school year, when Blaine had fallen sick with strep-throat.

Kurt had skipped class for the last two days it was in session, and spent them with his ailing boyfriend, watching Disney movies and sneaking in quick kisses. At those pecks, Blaine would groan that he was going to get sick, too, and then Kurt would just do it again, giggling lightly and telling him that he didn't care. They had then gotten into an argument about which Disney princess was better, forgetting all about those stolen kisses, and squealed over the princes that swept the heroines off of their glass slipper-clad feet. In the end, they both had decided that they were each other's own hackneyed versions of those men, and then Blaine had ended the discussion by pressing his lips to Kurt's.

Kurt missed those days, when he and Blaine were so happy and in love. He remembered feeling safe, and loved, and whole, as opposed to the empty ache that now occupied his whole being as of late. The memory that his mind had summoned and played for him rekindled his fierce yearning to feel that way again, and Kurt felt newfound determination stirring in his veins as he finally played the opening notes to the song that would take him one step further to getting Blaine back.

"_Life's been blinding me_

_From what I thought I'd see_

_Is there clarity in this insanity? (yeah)_

_What's he want from me? (yeah)_

_Roads in front of me_

_Taking me astray_

_Are you leaving me?_

_Or are you leading the way?_

_Can you hear what I'm saaayin'?"_

Kurt glanced at his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye, seeing only an unreadable expression on Blaine's face. Closing his eyes, he decided not to try to decipher that look just yet, and tried to focus instead on putting all the emotion that he could into that chorus that was coming up:

"_I need to knooow_

_I need to knooow_

_I need to kno-oh-ow_

_I need to know oh oooh_."

Playing the short piano piece before the second verse, Kurt looked fleetingly over at Johnny, whose face was concentrated on the piece of paper that he'd scribbled measures down onto as he'd picked out the violin part two nights previous. He turned his gaze back to the piano, Blaine's once-kind face flashing through his mind once again.

"_Feel like I'm trying to breathe underwater_

_Tryin' to climb but I keep fallin' farther (yeah)_

_Will you take my hand_?"

The volume in Kurt's voice and piano accompaniment began to rise, and he strained to let Blaine know with his words that he meant every one.

"_Feels so far away_

_Want to see your face_

_Are you even there?_

_Can you sho-ow me?_

_Can you make me beli-i-hieve_?"

He prepared himself to belt the final chorus, taking a deep breath. Once again, he chanced a look at Blaine, and was shocked to see his love's eyes swimming with moisture, his handsome face conflicted as he appeared to be gritting his teeth. As Kurt closed his eyes, he found himself surprised by the tears that fell from his lashes and onto the piano keys. Using every ounce of volume and feeling that he had left, Kurt began to sing his heart out for the boy he loved, just as Johnny's violin began to crescendo over the piano.

"_I need to knoo-oow_

_I ne-ed to knoooo-oow_

_I need to knooow_

_I ne-ed to knooo-oh-oow_."

Kurt almost had to stop as he played the short instrumental break, nearly overcome with the urge to stand up from the bench, run to Blaine, and promise him that he would love him forever, no matter what. His hands ran over the keys more fluidly than they ever had, and the notes he and Johnny created blended beautifully. He recognized his cue as the feature ended, and began to play and sing softly, almost tenderly, as the song came to its finale.

"_I need to kno-oow_

_I need to know oh, oooh_."

As it came to a close, Kurt shut his tightly eyes again, taking deep breaths that were quickly becoming dry sobs. Beginning to cry unashamedly, he placed his forehead against the keys, producing an ugly, unharmonious sound. Johnny had long since stopped playing, and simply watched as his partner began to weep over the piano.

The whole room was silent, but not as tensely so as after Blaine's performance. The boys glanced at each other, pitying looks on their faces as they shook their heads slowly. Wes and David's gazes flickered from Blaine, to Kurt, and back to each other, and Wes nodded, a small twitch of the head, as if to say that this had to be done.

Incredibly reminiscent of the day before, Blaine stood suddenly and looked at the teenage boys surrounding him with a fierce, determined look on his face. But, instead of running like he had after being given the CD, he stepped towards the weeping form of his boyfriend, who was shaking with sobs, and uttered three simple words that would have an immediate effect on Kurt's fragile heart:

"Please stop crying."

...

**So...originally Blaine was going to say two words, that were immensely more positive and good for Kurt's heart. But if Kurt even wins Blaine over at all, it definitely can't be four days into the Dare. Just be patient, gentle readers.**

**Oh, and once again, please read my Klaine oneshot. I REALLY would like input on it...**

**I'm sorry for this, because I know that you were hoping that they would just run into each other's arms. Hopefully, it was good and heartbreaking, because that IS my goal, as my best friend accused me of recently.**

**And speaking of my best friend...YOU ARE WELCOME.**

**Songs used: Panic At The Disco's "Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off", and Kris Allen's "I Need To Know".**

**Picturing Blaine singing that song was just...gah, sexy times.**


	8. Fight

**FIRST OF ALL THE WAIT WAS RIDICULOUS I APOLOGIZE.**

**Now, on to the story:**

...

"Please stop crying."

Kurt lifted his damp face from the glossy surface of the piano, the three words that Blaine had just spoken tumbling over each other in his mind as he tried to make sense of them.

The overwrought atmosphere that had followed Blaine's performance was back, though many of the boys averted their eyes, attempting to give them a little bit of privacy. Kurt noticed that the only people who still surveyed the scene were Johnny, Roger, Wes, and David, and he wondered if they drew any more meaning from Blaine's sentence than his muddled mind did.

"What?" he whispered hoarsely, turning back to Blaine and furrowing his eyebrows at the older boy, seeing the nervous expression on his face.

"Kurt," Blaine began as he stepped closer, glancing anxiously around the room. "Come on. Can you…can you not do this here?" Placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder, he ducked his head slightly. "I'm going to take you to your room, so you can…be alone." As the last two words left Blaine's mouth, Kurt noticed the slightly repulsed grimace on his face, as if the phrase tasted bitter.

Processing what he had said, Kurt stared forward, trying to numb himself to the onset of pain his that heart was enduring, even as he felt even more pressure behind his eyes. "Are you- are you ashamed of me, or something?" he asked, biting his lip and trying to hold back the onslaught of tears that threatened his already moist lashes.

"Kurt…could you please just…go?"

His chest constricting painfully, Kurt swallowed loudly, his vision blurring as he asked again, "What?"

"Please don't do this here. It's…it's embarrassing." Blaine's eyes were pleading and determined as he squeezed Kurt's shoulder, causing the younger boy to wrench himself from his grasp.

"What?"

"I said-"

"Damn it, Blaine, I know what you said," Kurt began, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, fighting the tears that distorted his vision. He felt a twinge of anger at Blaine's discomfiture and lack of caring. "I just don't know what happened to you."

A shadow of confusion flickered across Blaine's face. "Nothing happened to me. Listen, can we just talk about this somewhere else?"

"No!" Kurt exploded, suddenly standing from the piano and pointing a finger in Blaine's face, having had enough of Blaine's skirting around the problem. "No, we will damn well talk about it here, and you will tell me what the hell is wrong with you!"

"Please," Blaine pled, his tone surprisingly desperate, his eyes wide and insistent. Stepping closer to the other boy, he attempted to put his hand on Kurt's shoulder again, only to have it yanked from his grip once again. "Kurt, you're embarrassing yourself. And me. We can talk later."

"No, you self-righteous son of a bitch! You will talk _now_, and tell me why you are suddenly disgusted by me! Two months ago, if you had seen me crying, you would've comforted me in some way or form, but look at you now. All you care about is saving your precious reputation, and yourself. What will happen to you? What's in it for you? Is it going to be beneficial for you?" As Kurt continued to speak, he got closer and closer to Blaine, until they were almost touching noses. Blaine stared back into his eyes unflinchingly, his expression becoming hard. In his peripheral vision, Kurt saw several Warblers shifting uneasily, but he was beyond caring about the comfort of his many spectators. "I've loved you, and cared for you, and treated you like a good man would. And you reciprocated the love and adoration for almost a year. And look where we stand now." Gesturing to himself and the dark-haired boy in front of him, Kurt shook his head sadly, his voice becoming softer and taking on a new tone that was more weary than angry. "You won't talk to me about what's happening, you just…you push me away. I want to help you, and _love_ you. All of these things about your mom, and school…I can help you with it, if you'd just _let me in_."

Appearing to be in shock, Blaine made a few indecipherable sounds in the back of his throat, as if he didn't know how to respond. Seeing this, Kurt bit the inside of his cheek, once again fighting back the sobs that threatened to erupt from his slight frame.

"You're not going to let me in, are you?" he asked suddenly, pressing his lips together and waiting for a response.

Silence.

"Do you think you could take this somewhere else?" a voice interrupted, and the pair spun to see Roger glaring at them both, obviously irritated with the direction that the conversation was going. "Because some people need to duet-"

"Roger, shut the hell up," Blaine countered harshly, surprising Kurt with the annoyance displayed on his handsome features. The younger boy found himself wondering if Blaine even liked Roger at all, but then reminded himself that such ponderings would have to wait until a later date.

The teenager who had so rudely interrupted seemed taken aback by Blaine's hostility. However, his initial surprise evolved into apparent resentment, and he began to open his mouth to respond before Kurt cut him off.

"Don't open your trap again, or I swear on my life, I will go at you with a crowbar." Though he was surprised by his own assertiveness, Kurt found himself pleased with his out-of-character belligerence. "No one wants to hear you speak. I realize that you think you can just steal someone else's boyfriend without some form of retaliation set upon you, but you've thought wrong, you relationship-wrecking piece of podunk trash."

Blaine looked at him, his eyes squinting with confusion, and Kurt remembered that, though very intelligent academically, his boyfriend was rather dense when it came to the affections of other men towards him.

Too preoccupied with Blaine's reaction to his words, Kurt hadn't noticed Roger stand and begin to approach him furtively, a furious expression on his face. He saw Blaine's eyes widen, and barely had time to turn his head before Roger tackled him.

Several exclamations of profanity left Kurt's mouth as he crashed into the piano, his back catching the keys and sending pain radiating up his spine. Twisting in an attempt to get a slight advantage over the larger boy, he grunted in pain as Roger slammed him to the floor by his shoulders. He heard several surrounding Warblers cursing, and in his peripheral vision, saw most of them stand.

_I always knew they liked me better-_

One of Roger's fists caught his cheek, as Blaine shouted, "Get off of him!" and ran at the senior. Kurt clawed at the chest of the teenager on top of him, kicking frantically and fighting back; though the year before he hadn't been able to bring himself to really fight Karofsky, the rage he felt inside himself now was all-consuming. All he wanted to do was kick, and rip, and tear, at the thought that the person who was trying to come between himself and his love was perched on his thin chest, trying to hurt him.

"_STOP_!" Blaine cried from somewhere to Kurt's right, and suddenly all of Roger's weight was fortunately absent from his torso, leaving the winded teen to lay staring at the marble blue ceiling, fighting for air. The first breath that entered his lungs was a blessing, but he did not allow himself to savor it before getting off of the floor to survey the scene before him.

A panting Roger stood across from Blaine, holding a hand to his bloody mouth, and for a moment Kurt rejoiced inside his head, thinking that he had caused the damage. However, he noticed slight, crescent-shaped indentions peppered across Blaine's knuckles, and saw a fresh scarlet stain on the bandage that was wrapped around his right hand.

_Those bandages…I never asked what he did to himself_-

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sebastian shouted, storming up to the bleeding boy and pointing a finger in his face, as Kurt wondered at the fact that Blaine had resorted to violence over him. "You _know_ about the policy, and you had better bet that I'm marching straight to the Dean's office and reporting this."

"Didn't you hear what he said?" Roger exclaimed defiantly, widening his eyes to feign innocence and gesturing at Kurt insistently. "He called me trash, and practically threatened to kill me with a crowbar!" At this, Kurt's stomach gave a little start; he realized that what he'd said could be construed as a death threat, and he found himself uneasy with Roger's accusation.

"I didn't hear him say anything," a voice said, and Kurt whirled to see Johnny standing at the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Walking forward a few steps, the small, dark boy looked around at his fellow Warblers. "Right, guys?"

Startled, Kurt saw Blaine nod in agreement, his large, dark eyes never leaving the brunette who'd just tackled Kurt. "No, I don't recall Kurt saying a single thing that sounded threatening. Isn't that right, Sebastian?"

The big, blonde teenager grinned, but there was only malice in the smile as he bobbed his head in concurrence. "Right. So you," he began, suddenly serious again, and came nose-to-nose with Roger, "need to scram. Now. Before things get even uglier." Roger paused, looking around himself at the other teenage boys with wide-eyed fear. Sebastian made to punch him and shouted, "THAT MEANS NOW!"

Scrambling to leave, Roger kicked several chairs over on his way to the door, his long arms frantically grabbing for them, before he gave up and simply sprinted out of the room. Johnny slammed the door behind him, and turned to the room full of stunned teenagers.

For the third time that day, the practice room fell completely silent. Every single boy was either seething or nervously glancing at one another, their eyes flickering to Kurt and Blaine every few seconds. Kurt, however, couldn't bring himself to look at his boyfriend, and merely kept his gaze on the floor.

_Well…this day was just peachy, wasn't it? _his mind asked sarcastically, and he felt tears spring forth in his temporarily dry eyes. _You've gotten nowhere with Blaine…a talented, albeit slimy, member of the Warblers is looking at expulsion. Everyone thinks you and Johnny are dating…what now?_

Kurt didn't know the answer, and questions began to echo in his brain as he leaned down and began to pick up the piano bench, which had been knocked aside during his brief brawl with Roger. A hand covered his and guided the bench to an upright position, and Kurt stared in utter astonishment at the person to whom the hand belonged.

"Blaine," he breathed, his wide, blue eyes searching his boyfriend's face for any kind of emotion. Blaine just looked into his eyes with a blank expression, and quickly turned away from him, making Kurt's breath catch in his throat. The younger boy put a hand on Blaine's arm and began, "Blaine, I-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted without turning around, and the roomful of male teenagers all zeroed-in on the pair that stood by the piano. "I can't- I can't deal with this right now…I have to go think…in private."

With that, Blaine slowly strode out of the room, shooting Johnny a rather hateful look on the way, and left his boyfriend and twenty other teenage boys to gape after him silently. Johnny and Kurt exchanged grim glances as they watched him go, and Kurt knew that they were both thinking the same thing: _We failed_. A tear ran over his cheek, down his neck, and dripped to the floor as he thought so.

A pointed cough interrupted the stillness, causing Kurt to break out of his miserable stupor and look around the room curiously. He roved the room with his eyes, before his gaze landed on Wes, who had a timid hand in the air.

"So," the senior began, chuckling nervously. "Who's next?"

…

"Dean McCullough would like to see you now. Go on in," Mrs. Bergman, the office secretary, chirped cheerily to the three boys seated by her desk, adjusting her horridly pink skirt and batting her eyelashes at them.

Sebastian, David, and Wes shuddered simultaneously, before standing up. Giving a polite nod, David smiled at the middle-aged woman, and said, "Thank you so much for setting up an appointment on such short notice, ma'am. But these are urgent matters."

Flushing, Mrs. Bergman waved one meaty hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. "Oh, it's not problem, boys. I just love helping the students. With anything. _At all_." She punctuated the sentence with yet another wink, and the horror of the three boys was displayed clearly on their faces.

Wes nudged his compatriots along hurriedly, wanting to get as far from the pedophilic antics of Mrs. Bergman as possible. "Come on guys," he began, his voice taking on a beseeching tone. "We mustn't keep the dean waiting, right? Right?" Glancing nervously at the secretary, he saw that she wasn't looking, and chose the opportunity to widen his eyes suggestively at his friends.

Sebastian nodded vigorously and cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. David, would you lead the way?"

The darker teenager sighed in resignation. "Let's just get this over with."

David walked over to the large mahogany door by the front desk, Wes and Sebastian following hesitantly, and rapped on the wood below a plaque that read, in gilt-script, 'Dean Richard McCullough'. Behind his back, Wes and Sebastian exchanged amused glances.

"You don't have to knock. She said to go in," Sebastian whispered in David's ear, causing the other boy to jump.

"I- I know," David stammered, smiling with shaky confidence. "I, um…thought we should be a little more polite. We can't just barge in on Dean McCullough. We should be respectful of his person space.

Smiling indulgently at each other again, Wes and Sebastian crossed their arms over their chests. It was no secret to the student body of Dalton Academy that their dean was rather…strict; stories flew around the school like mad, detailing assorted weapons and animal carcasses that hung on the walls of his office, but David had always scoffed at such accusations. Therefore, his currently jumpy, timid manner was highly amusing to both of the boys standing across from him.

Giving him a little shove, Wes raised his eyebrows at his best friend. "Come on, David. Knock again," he taunted. The other boy glowered at him, and discreetly flipped him off before pushing the door open.

"…yes, I _know_, Mary. I promise that Sven's medication is being distributed in small doses. I can assure you that his hyperactive behavior has nothing to do with the amount of medicine that we are…_yes, Mrs. Arnolds, I assure-_I have to go, goodbye, ma'am."

The three teenagers who'd just entered glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, perplexed expressions on their faces, as Dean McCullough heaved a great sigh and hung up the phone. The rather large man looked up from his desk to see his visitors, looking more weary than interested in whatever they planned on discussing with him.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry about that," he apologized, his voice sounding drained, running a hand through his thinning gray hair. "Some business I needed to take care of. Now, what did you boys want to talk to me about?"

Sebastian stepped in front of David, to his classmates' shock, and straightened his back as he cleared his throat. "It's about something that happened during a Warblers meeting today, sir-"

"Then why didn't you bring this issue to the Arts Director? I clearly have my hands full with other things."

"With all due respect, sir," Sebastian began, shrugging awkwardly, "I would think that you would've remembered that the Warblers is an extracurricular that is entirely independent from the Arts Director, as we have our own council-"

"Yes, yes, very well," Dean McCullough cut him off again, and David heard Sebastian grit his teeth at the interruption. "What exactly is so urgent, then? Funding problems? Because, as much as I respect you kids that choose to express your…creative sides, we need to use that money for our new library wing."

Before Sebastian could speak, Wes interjected, "Sir, it's more of a…behavioral problem, if you will."

Furrowing his brow suspiciously, the dean looked as if paying attention to the topic for the first time since they'd entered, and he leaned back in his chair expectantly. "Go on."

"You see, Dean McCullough, it's one of the Warblers." Wes paused and fixed David with a questioning gaze, to which his best friend nodded, having obviously understood the inquiring look. "He tackled Kurt Hummel during the meeting today, after Kurt finished singing."

The older man sighed tiredly, and reached a hand up to his forehead as he asked, "And who might this student be?"

"Um," David began ineloquently. "It's Roger McKay, sir."

Instead of reacting with sternness, as the boys had expected, the dean let out a booming laugh that echoed around the confines of his square, dark office. He slapped his knee gleefully, causing the teenagers to stare in alarm and slight fear.

"Roger McKay, in a fight?" he chuckled, oblivious to their ogling. "Come now, tell me who really did it."

Sebastian glared at him, disbelieving. "Roger did. He tackled Kurt after his performance. We all saw it." He gestured emphatically around himself, indicating his fellow Warbler council members.

"No, you must be mistaken. Roger McKay is one of Dalton's finest students-" Sebastian snorted derisively at this, causing the older man to frown at him "-and I simply can't bring myself to believe that he would act in such a manner."

"Sir, you must understand, that he started to strike Kurt, also-"

Dean McCullough shook his head slowly, sighing deeply, his laughter from moments ago having dissipated. "Well, let's just say that Mr. McKay did hurt the Hummel boy. Why would he do such a thing?"

Wes coughed awkwardly behind his head before David muttered, "Kurt may have said a few things to-"

"Ah, there's the ticket. So the blame not only lies on Mr. McKay's shoulders, eh?" Sighing again, Dean McCullough's shoulders dropped. "Listen, boys. If Mr. Hummel also had something to do with it, and called him trash, I would be forced to expel the both of them. And I don't think that you'd want…" he trailed off, having seen the looks on the faces of the teenagers before him.

The three boys, who had raised their eyebrows at the use of the word 'trash', stepped forward at the same time with curious looks on their faces, their former fear almost entirely gone. Sebastian cleared his throat and said, "Sir…none of us said anything about what Kurt called Roger."

McCullough fumbled over his words for a moment, sputtering like a fish out of water. "Well, you see…I may have-may have spoken to Mr. McKay prior to your visit-"

"Aha!" Wes exclaimed from beside David, and his friend nudged him in the side to remind him that this was the dean's office. However, Wes paid him no mind, and, having entirely forgotten the terror from outside of the office, pointed a condemning digit at the authority figure in outrage. "So you talked to Roger first, and he spouted off some fraudulent story about how it was Kurt's fault? And neglected to mention that, in actuality, he was the main instigator?"

"I see no reason as to why he would be dishonest with me. His dad and I have been friends for years-" McCullough stopped suddenly and coughed into his hand in an attempt to cover the latter half of his statement.

Sebastian smirked at the gray-haired man, and crossed his arms over his blazer. "I do believe you have dug yourself into an even larger hole, sir. With all due respect, I think that it would be in your best interests to get rid of Roger. He's constantly starting childish drama within the student body, and it would be wise to consider his expulsion."

The dean stood from his desk, his face furious and scarlet with frustration. "I'll do no such thing. I run this school, all day, every day, and I think you can handle this infantile spat yourselves! Roger's parents make large contributions to the school's academic and extracurricular funding, and he is a model student!"

At his words, David finally decided to join in the finger pointing, and did so as he shouted, "You just completely ignored everything we just said, didn't you? You worthless-"

"I'm going to pretend that you weren't going to finish that with an offensive word," McCullough growled, looking up at David through narrowed eyes. Turning to Sebastian, he said, "Mr. Littleton, if you could give my sympathies to Kurt Hummel. Here, we have a no-bullying policy. But physical disputes that have nothing to do with any sort of discrimination need to be reported by the offended. He will have to report it himself." He looked at the three seniors in front of him, not bothering to add the '_but we all know he'll do no such thing' _that the boys knew belonged at the end of his sentence.

...

**I'm sorry that it didn't really have Kurt and/or Blaine's reaction after the fact...I might put it in next chapter, but I felt like I needed slight comic relief.**

**And I'd also like to say that I love Sebastian already. I have good plans for him.**

**Oh, and I RPed for the first time today, on the Omegle Klaine Takeover thing- it was FANTASTIC.**

**Reviews, please?**


	9. Love, Desire, And Examples

**Guys, first of all, I want to apologize for the wait. The fic has had a fantastic response, and I shouldn't keep you waiting for so long.**

**On the other hand, I've been...caught up, in other things. Regular life. And we all know that, fifty percent of the time, regular life sucks.**

**Anyways, I hope this chapter kind of makes up for it. I'm not so happy about the beginning, but it's pretty long, and emotional...(when is this fic not...?)**

**Enjoy, guys!**

_..._

_My whole life is falling apart._

This was what Blaine Anderson thought as he walked across the front lawn of the Dalton Academy campus, darkness having just fallen and leaving only the classical lamps to cast a glow over the grounds. In the distance, crickets chirruped unceasingly, reminding the teenager of the summer nights he'd recently spent out on the deck of his Westerville mansion, trying to let the warm breeze and dusk cleanse him of his worries.

He chuckled humorlessly to himself, before Kurt's grief-stricken face came to the forefront of his mind, effectively destroying any chance of amusement in his current state.

Kicking blindly in front of himself out of frustration, Blaine felt his dress shoes strike something solid and send it sailing into the unnaturally warm September night. There were a few moments of silence, in which only his heart could be heard, galloping in his chest at an absurdly quick rate, before a soft thud sounded.

"I can't believe my life right now," he whispered to himself, and breathed deeply in the darkness. Shaking his head sadly, he pressed two fingers to his temple. "I don't even know what I want anymore!" He punctuated his sentence with another uncharacteristic, blind kick, and only felt his foot slice through the air.

_Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. I love him, I love him not, I love him, I love him not_-

Blaine ran a hand through his hair and growled to himself, thoughts of his semi-boyfriend summoning thousands of images and feelings in his weary mind; specifically, his recent performance, and the utter, earth-shattering love that Kurt had conveyed whilst singing. Admittedly, it had been amazing, and soulful, and completely extraordinary, but Blaine's mixed emotions about Kurt and the song left him more confused than ever.

Trying to shake thoughts of the younger boy, Blaine began walking at a faster pace from the main building, but it did no good.

_You loved him._

"But not anymore," Blaine mumbled forcibly through gritted teeth, clenching his fists by his side.

His heart wasn't so sure.

_I have to get him out of my head!_ his thoughts demanded fiercely, and he agreed wholeheartedly. _I can't keep being around him, and having to worry about him._

And, all at once, Blaine Anderson had come to a decision.

…

There it lay, mocking him.

With its muddy brown cover and golden script, '_The Love Dare' _sat on Johnny's desk, seeming almost smug at Kurt Hummel's most recent failure.

Glaring at it through watery eyes, Kurt reached a hand up to swipe at his tears, which had been falling for over an hour. A movie blared in the background, drowning out the sounds of his sniffles and quiet sobs, as a way of comfort that Johnny had deemed appropriate for the situation; the younger boy had obviously thought that watching one of his favorite movies would keep the junior's spirits up, though Kurt couldn't have told anyone what exactly was playing at the time.

He saw Johnny looking over at him every few minutes, his large brown eyes wide with worry and apparent sympathy for his friend. Kurt honestly couldn't blame Johnny for worrying; he'd been sitting and staring at the book on the desk across from him since they had been dismissed from the Warblers meeting early. The utter rage and sorrow that was present on his face would be enough to alarm anyone, he was sure.

"Kurt?" Johnny asked suddenly from his place on the bed, eyeing the older boy hesitantly, and Kurt turned to see that he'd paused the movie. "Can I ask you a question?"

Wondering what in the world Johnny was going to ask, (or, more, importantly, if said question would make the ache in his chest hurt any more than it already did), he nodded unsurely.

"Well, um," the fifteen-year-old began, an apologetic expression forming on his face. "I…I know that I asked you this already today, and that you probably don't want to talk about it- man, I bet you don't want to, what with the duets and all, and after the CD, and you crying, and-"

Though he usually found Johnny's rambling rather charming, all Kurt could think of was how wearying it was. "Spit it out, Johnny," he snapped, and saw hurt flash through the younger boy's eyes. He scolded himself for his callousness, and tried to take on a softer tone as he said, "I'm sorry. What did you want to ask me?"

"I guess I just wanted to know _why_."

Confused, Kurt furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head. What the hell is talking about? he thought, and stood from his seat at Johnny's desk before walking over to the bed. The mattress dipped with his weight as he sat down, and he folded his arms in his lap. "'Why', what?"

"Why are you trying to get Blaine back?" Johnny's words were rushed and nervous, and he glanced at Kurt timidly, as if fearing an outburst. Looking down at his hands, he twisted the bedspread in his long, nimble fingers. "I mean, he's been such a douchebag, and it's pretty obvious that he's not c-committed to your relationship anymore." He paused again, but Kurt seemed unfazed. "I don't mean to be all 'I-know-what-you-should-do-because-I-have-experience', because I really have zero knowledge when it comes to relationship drama. But it just- I don't like seeing you cry every day, Kurt. It…it kind of breaks my heart."

Shocked, Kurt merely gaped at the freshman, and wondered how they'd become such good friends in the course of four days. It was, perhaps, the most quickly he'd every bonded with anyone, and to know that his new friend cared so deeply was immensely relieving and good for his damaged heart.

"Listen," Johnny began again, his voice almost childishly innocent. "I've never, like, dated someone before, so I can't really relate to your problem. So, please, don't be mad, but I kind of don't understand why you'd want Blaine back when he treats you so badly."

Kurt considered that for a moment, and immediately recalled a day that he'd never forgotten: the day of his father's second heart attack. He remembered the way Blaine had walked in on him after he'd received the call, and the instant worry on his boyfriend's face when he had seen how pale Kurt had gone.

He turned to Johnny, the memory still fresh in his mind. "I told you about my father's heart problems, correct?" Johnny nodded meekly in answer, so Kurt continued. "Well, when I got the call about his second heart attack, I went a bit catatonic. I literally didn't move until Blaine walked in, and asked what was wrong. When I told him, he didn't say anything, just pulled me out to my car and began the drive to Lima without asking any more questions." He chuckled lightly, yet also felt a faint sting in his upper torso, suddenly recalling many more details than he'd originally been able to. "Blaine didn't pack clothing for the either of us, and I swear that neither of us ate in the first thirty-six hours. We just sat in the waiting room and gripped each other's hands for dear life." Feeling moisture begin to collect in his vision again, Kurt closed his eyes. "He stayed in the hospital with me for a week straight, even though my dad was unconscious the entire time. Eventually, his parents called and shouted at him about skipping school and 'foolish tactics to get into another male's pants'. But Blaine refused to leave the hospital. To leave _me."_

Kurt took a deep breath, recalling all of this with perfect clarity. Johnny's eyes were slightly wide, a look of comprehension present on his face, and Kurt knew that he finally had found a way to explain everything to him; just by witnessing to Blaine's good heart, and loyalty, and ability to love.

Looking his compatriot in the eye, he put a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Now, do you see why I can't just give up on this? Why I can't just- just let him go? Because he didn't leave me in that hospital, even though we both smelled like rotten cabbage and desperately needed to shave. He didn't leave me, and I know that, even though he's having a hard time now and acting ridiculous, that Waiting-Room-Blaine is still in there somewhere."

Johnny appeared to be speechless after taking in this new information, and simply stared at his hands again. He was silent for a few minutes, while Kurt simply sat and watched him to gauge his reaction, before he finally spoke.

"Was he really that amazing?"

The slight awe in his voice caused Kurt to smirk slightly, despite the circumstances under which he happened to be sitting there. Nodding, he replied, "Oh, yes. And that is just the beginning. You should have seen him on the last day of school. He wouldn't let me go to class, since we wouldn't be living together for three months, and locked me in here so we could watch musicals all day."

Johnny smiled a little, bobbing his head thoughtfully. "Sounds pretty great, Kurt." Pausing, he seemed to gather his thoughts. "And I was thinking, because I do this with all of my family…I've never actually had a- a friend before, and…well, since you're going through a tough time…could I put you on my church's prayer list?"

Though taken aback by Johnny's confession about not having had a friend before, Kurt was even more appalled by his request. Even as he had to bite back a remark about how he didn't need anyone's prayers, he felt something warm in his stomach, and realized that it was affection for his new friend. However, he shook his head at the other boy, causing Johnny's face to fall.

"Oh, I'm- I'm sorry-"

"No, no, don't be sorry," Kurt told him sincerely, patting his hand. "It's just that…it being a church…I don't think they'd really like to pray for me."

"Why in the world-" Johnny began, but realization dawned on his youthful face before he completed his sentence. "Oh," he finished quietly, his gaze once again dropping to his hands.

"Yeah," Kurt replied inelegantly, looking awkwardly around the room.

"You know," the freshman began again, not looking up from the bedspread. "I don't think of it like that- love is love, just like hate is hate. My church hasn't really made their policy on-" he gulped, seeming almost nervous- "homosexuality widely known, but I'm sure that they wouldn't be intolerable."

Kurt found himself touched by his friend's caring, but, again, shook his head. "Well, I don't want to get you kicked out of it or anything…so, to be safe, just don't mention it."

Johnny sighed dejectedly. "I guess you're right. But, if they didn't like gay people-"

His statement was cut off by three knocks sounding on the door in rapid succession. Kurt jerked his head toward the entrance of the room, speculating who could be wanting into Johnny's room at ten o'clock at night.

Standing, Johnny looked at Kurt in perplexity. "Did you invite someone…?" he trailed off, raising his eyebrows doubtfully as someone delivered three more sharps raps on the door.

Kurt shook his head and slowly stood, feeling something cold curl in his stomach. "No, I didn't." Pausing, he cast an uneasy glance at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I think I'll open the door now."

Taking a deep breath, Kurt began to scold himself for being such a coward. _Really, it's probably not a murderer, or robber…or Blaine. Get a hold of yourself_. He started toward the door, and flinched slightly back when the mystery guest laid a few more knocks on the wood. Johnny shot him an amused look, causing Kurt to scowl at his younger friend as he walked forward again.

Placing a hand on the brass doorknob, Kurt heaved a sigh and opened the door.

"Blaine?"

Looking as handsome as ever, Kurt's boyfriend stood before him with a slightly discomfited expression on his face. His dark eyes bore into Kurt's as he fiddled lightly with the button on his blazer, before asking, "Would you mind if I came in…to- to talk?" As he waited for a reply, his gaze dropped to the floor, analyzing the polished surface with great interest. Kurt found himself surprised by the look on his love's face, one that he'd seen maybe twice before.

_Shame_.

Unpleasant astonishment coursed through Kurt's entire being, making him want to crawl out of his skin, but he replied anyways, "No…no, come on in." He backed away from the door, leaving it open for Blaine to walk through.

The older teenager entered the room, his eyes still fixed on the floor. As he began to close the door, however, he looked up. His gaze settled on Johnny, and Kurt mentally slapped himself for not suggesting that they talk out on the grounds (or, at least, anywhere but here).

"Oh," was all Blaine said, his normal fluency momentarily absent and his cheeks heating with what Kurt assumed was the onset of anger. "I wasn't aware that you…that you were…" he trailed off.

"Johnny, could you," Kurt began, his voice an octave higher with worry, without turning to look at the freshman, "could you, please, leave us-"

A hand on his shoulder cut him off, and he spun to see Johnny giving him a toothy grin. "No problem, _bro," _the dark-haired teen told him, putting emphasis on the last word of his sentence. Kurt found himself unable to keep from admiring the blatant use of said word, and Johnny's not-so-subtle attempt at letting Blaine know that they were only friends. Johnny winked as he left the room, and smiled slyly at Kurt before giving him a thumbs-up.

The lock clicked as Johnny closed the door behind himself, leaving the two other teenagers to stare at each other awkwardly.

Blaine spoke first, only supplying a soft, "Kurt."

Feeling his heart jump into his esophagus, the junior nodded slightly, and cleared his throat. "Yes, Blaine?"

"Listen," Blaine began, and sat down on the bed. Looking up at Kurt, he patted the bedspread beside himself, as if beckoning for the younger boy to sit down. Obliging, Kurt took a seat beside his love, his pulse pounding in his temple, his mind aflutter with spastic half-thoughts. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows and attempted to catch Kurt's eyes, and the compassionate expression on his face made the younger boy's heart swell as he began again, "I know that we have been having…_problems."_

Kurt nodded vigorously, sure that his heart could be heard from the courtyard outside the window.

"-and I know that, well, I've treated you really badly lately. Which, by the way, I apologize for embarrassing you with that song during Warblers. I shouldn't have done it, and I guess I should've known that before I went and made a fool of myself."

"It's no problem-"

"Yes, Kurt, it is." Blaine paused and toyed with the scarlet lining of the comforter below him, looking down at his hands. "I'm a problem. You're a problem. Mr. Freshman-what's-his-name is a problem. This is all one. Big. Problem!" With that, he wrenched himself from the bed and turned away from Kurt, leaving the other teen to stare at his back in shock. "I know, Kurt, that you and I were in love- in fact, we were so in love that I'm seriously aching on the inside, and I want to feel that again. But you know what? We're never going to get that back."

Kurt swallowed and choked back a sob, unable to believe what he was hearing. He felt his face begin to crumple in sorrow. "And how exactly do you know that, Blaine?"

"That's not fair," Blaine countered, ignoring the question, and pointed an accusing finger at the young man before him. "That's not fair, and you know it. Y-You can't expect me to just wait around for that love to just, I don't know, magically reappear. You aren't being fair."

Biting back several sarcastic remarks, Kurt simply nodded, thinking, I wonder if the Blaine from months ago would approve of this.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly, once again sitting beside him. Putting a hand on his knee, he looked into the seventeen-year-old's eyes, unaware of the heat that spread throughout Kurt's body at his touch. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. Even though I don't love you, I still care about you. And it still hurts me to see you so…miserable. I know that I've got a lot on my plate, but I had no excuse to be such a pretentious ass, and-"

"Blaine, please. It's fine," Kurt interrupted, waving both his hands dismissively in front of his face. His heart had swollen with each of Blaine's consoling words, and now the look on his face was hopeful. Coming to a sudden decision, he took a deep breath before saying, "We need to just forget all of this. And try to be us again." He finished his sentence with a comforting smile, and put his hand on Blaine's knee.

An increasingly puzzled expression on his face, Blaine stood, shaking Kurt's hand off of his leg in the process. His forehead's indentions betrayed his confusion as he shook his head rapidly, and Kurt felt dread consume his mind.

"No, Kurt, I thought I made myself clear," he began, widening his eyes. "There is no 'us', anymore. Damn, I'm so distracted that I forgot my original intentions of coming here." He sighed, shooting Kurt a pitying glance. "I don't really know how to say this- or, rather, ask it of you- but I think we should…take a break."

Standing slowly, Kurt cocked his head, feeling anger stir in his chest. "And what the _hell_ would you call _this_? Work? As if we haven't been 'taking a break' from each other for the past few weeks?" He flushed with anger and crossed his arms.

"I knew you'd be like this," Blaine mumbled, and all Kurt wanted right then was to shake the handsome boy before him and ask him why in the world he was doing this. "Well, I suppose I'd better just get it over with…" He trailed off, and Kurt's heart sank to his knees, and finally to the floor as Blaine finished, "I think you should move out."

Kurt stood, unmoving, and paled as his mind replayed Blaine's sentence over and over again_: I think you should move out I think you should move out I think-_

"I wish it hadn't come to this, Kurt-"

_-I think you should move out-_

"-I desperately wish that things could be the same-"

_-I think you should move out-_

"-I still care for you, but we need some space. I need some space-"

_-I think you should move out-_

Making an inarticulate choking noise, Kurt felt tears spring forth in his eyes as he suddenly propelled himself forward, until he was mere inches away from Blaine's face. Here, there would be no masks for either of them to put on, no steely expressions or cold eyes; just honesty, and intimacy, and truth.

His voice tremulous and pleading, Kurt whispered, "Blaine. Please don't do this. _Please_. Give us a chance."

Surveying Blaine's reaction, he knew with dreadful certainty what was coming. It made him blanch to think of how he'd come to expect malevolent, angry reactions from the senior. He anticipated shouting, and aggression, and horrible insults, but was surprised to find that Blaine merely shook his head.

Blaine groaned softly, his face twisting into an unreadable expression. "This is hard for me, too, Kurt. Please don't make it any harder than it has to be." He paused, fixing Kurt with an apologetic gaze. "I just…I need to forget you. As I said before, I still have feelings for you, and I suppose to some extent I'll always love you in some way or form. But I have to move on."

"What exactly did I do?" the junior asked heatedly, his stance switching from morose to ferociously determined. "You never answered me. I know that I said the thing about your father, and I kissed Wes-"

"Stop, just stop, Kurt," Blaine cut him off, holding up his hands as if to halt his sentence. "It's not only you- it's me."

Laughing dryly, Kurt had to once again fight tears. "That's the oldest, most cliché line in the book," he interjected, even as his mind was scrambling, wondering if Blaine was actually going to do the worst- break up with him.

"You know my mom is sick. And no matter how much I dislike her, she is my mother. So stop worrying about yourself for one minute. Step into my shoes."

"I've been in your shoes, Blaine!" Kurt exploded, throwing his hands in the air and making the other boy flinch. "My dad almost died, so I know damn well what you're going through. And I could help you with it, if you'd just talk to me about things, instead of bottling everything up like a twelve-year-old girl!" As he finished his sentence, he felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that he himself had become isolated during his father's sickness, but he quickly discharged such thoughts in his mind. Yes, his mother's sickness was a good excuse, but he'd been trying to help Blaine through it; but he had just become withdrawn and stubborn, unwilling to take Kurt's advice or support.

Blaine shook his head quickly, as if trying to shake thoughts of reconnecting with Kurt. "No, no, I'm done talking about this. It's so stupid to waste time with you when my mother is- is dying, and I have to study, and Warblers-" he began to ramble, his eyes becoming more unfocused by the second, but stopped dead at the hurt look on Kurt's face.

"You think I'm a waste of time?" Sure, it wasn't exactly the way Blaine had phrased it, but it had been implied, and Kurt felt himself begin to shake with the onset of panic. His mind was in a frenzy, wondering if all had been for naught; he'd known that Blaine wasn't responding as he'd hoped to The Love Dare, but to think that the older boy had just simply dismissed him as something that wasn't worth his time- that shook him to the core.

Blaine only replied with a bemused look, as if he were unable to form a proper response.

Turning away from him, Kurt began to shake his head as his face crumpled with tears. He knew that his face was scrunched up and red, as it always looked when he started to cry, but he didn't give a damn. A deep, shuddering breath sent tremors down his spine as he put his face in his hands.

_I'm such an idiot_, Kurt thought to himself as he felt the last months' worth of sadness wash over him. _I'm such an idiot for ever thinking that this would work. He doesn't even think I'm worth his time anymore. _

A hand on his shoulder made him look up, straight into the deep brown eyes that he'd used to fantasize about before he'd even had a boyfriend.

As Kurt looked into those eyes, he caught a glimpse of the old Blaine; kindhearted, loving, caring Blaine. Gone were the glares and malicious comments, the accusations and hatred. It was as if a veil had been lifted from Blaine's face, and finally he was being honest. Stunned, Kurt simply gazed back at him, wondering what had come over Blaine, and he knew that this was the boy he'd fallen in love with; not the detestable, cold, robot that he'd become in Kurt's eyes.

"Blaine-"

"You aren't a waste of time," Blaine said thickly, his own face crumpling with the weight of the sorrow that Kurt knew rested on his heart. "Oh, Kurt, I'd _never _say that." He put a hand on Kurt's cheek, making the younger boy's heart swell to the point of risky hope, and ran his thumb over a few of his tears. The moisture in Blaine's own eyes seemed to defy gravity, simply hanging precariously on the edge of his lashes, threatening to spill over onto his smooth cheeks. "You know that, through all of this, you'll remain my first love, right? It doesn't matter, Kurt, that this is the end, because we'll always be able to say that we loved, and we loved with all of our hearts."

His words seemed to fill Kurt, making the boy stand taller and giving his mournful face a dull, hopeful glow as tears continued to cascade down his pale cheeks. Nodding, Kurt breathed deeply. Blaine pressed his lips together, obviously trying to hold back the tears that were present in his eyes, and put his forehead against Kurt's.

Kurt's eyelids fluttered shut, and he calmly asked, "So you really did love me with all of your heart, huh?"

Blaine released a shaky laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"I love you with all of my heart, too," Kurt told him, and thankfully Blaine either didn't hear, or chose to ignore, the present tense he'd used. "I'm not going to give up on this, not until I see you get on a plane to California."

Pulling away from Kurt, Blaine smiled somewhat sadly. "Is it going to make a difference if I tell you not to waste your time?"

His gentle tone surprised Kurt, so unlike the hateful snapping that he'd been enduring every time he'd hinted at winning Blaine back. "No, Blaine. It's not going to make a difference." He sighed, and shrugged despondently. "Do you remember that day in that coffee shop after Jeremiah rejected you?" Seeing Blaine's slight grimace, he knew that he did. "After I made the 'When Harry Met Sally' reference, you said, 'don't they get together in the end?'."

He let that hang in the air, and Blaine simply nodded, indicating that he knew what Kurt was referring to.

"Maybe we are Harry and Sally. Granted, you are much more attractive than Billy Crystal, but I digress." He paused, seeing Blaine really smile for the first time in weeks. "Maybe we'll end up together in the end."

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine said, and put his cool hand on the side of his face again. He stepped closer, so close that Kurt could see the individual green flecks in his eyes. "I think we've had our chance."

"You don't know that," Kurt countered fiercely, causing Blaine to give him another sad smile.

"I think it's time for me to go," the older boy said quietly, after a moment, and looked to the floor. "I really am sorry for all of this…but I still want you to move out."

Having forgotten Blaine's request, Kurt felt his heart plummet once again to the floor. But, for once, his hope didn't go with it

"We need space," Blaine continued, nodding resolutely. "I honestly don't think that we are…going to amount to anything again, but you've seen how…sensitive about things I've been lately. I don't want to fight with you anymore, Kurt."

Simply nodding, Kurt brushed tears from his face. He decided that, though this was a serious setback in his plan, he would not let this be over yet.

Blaine dithered for a moment, before resting a hand awkwardly on the shoulder of the seventeen-year-old before him. "Do you have a place to stay?" he asked quietly.

After considering the question for a few seconds, Kurt came to the conclusion that there wasn't a right answer. Hesitating, he finally mumbled, "Here."

Something between resignation and, oddly enough, possessiveness flashed across Blaine's features; the expression, however, lasted merely a few seconds, just long enough for Kurt to catch it, and then simply vanished from the older boy's face. A moment later, Blaine nodded and pressed his lips together in a hard line, inhaling slowly.

Before Kurt could respond, Blaine had stepped forward and placed the lightest of kisses on his mouth, his lips ghosting over those of the younger boy. Kurt's breathing hitched, and he had to restrain himself from lunging forward and going in for a harder kiss, having gone for so long without being close to Blaine in this way.

Blaine went in for another soft, gentle kiss, one so sweet and longing that it brought tears to Kurt's eyes. Lingering, their lips brushed so lightly it went it almost unnoticeable as they simply inhaled each other's scent, nostalgia and yearning surging through both of their bodies. The finality and desperation of Blaine's slight touch sent Kurt's mind reeling, and he began to feel light-headed as his eyes filled with moisture once again.

Sensing the end of their encounter, Kurt summoned enough willpower to pull away from Blaine, his beautiful face, his intoxicating scent. He pulled the shorter teenager close to himself, their bodies pressed together firmly, and then leaned down.

"It's not over yet," he whispered brokenly into Blaine's ear, causing the senior to shiver.

"I-" Blaine's breath caught in his throat as he fought the hormonal imbalance that consumed his mind and body. "I have to-have to go. Goodbye, Kurt."

With that, he disentangled his small frame from Kurt's and left as if a mere whisper, leaving the room silent and bare as the younger boy could only stand, shocked by what had just happened; his mind flooded with half-formed thoughts and images, and he replayed the previous seconds several times in his brain before speaking softly.

"What the hell was that?" he mumbled to himself, his cheeks flushed and his jaw clenched, still feeling a faint tingle where Blaine's lips had just been.

There was a light knock on the door, and his head snapped up so quickly that he heard the tendons in his neck creak.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked expectantly to no one in particular, at such a low volume that one could barely describe it as a whisper.

"Kurt?" a voice questioned as the door began to open, and Johnny revealed himself from behind the wood. His eyes were wide with astonishment, presumably at Kurt's current expression. "Kurt, how did it go? Blaine just ran past me in that hall, and- oh, no, did he break it off? He broke things off, didn't he? Is that why you looked so shocked? Because on those TV shows everyone always looks like that when something bad happens, and-"

"He asked me to move out."

His rambling having ceased, Johnny only stared at the junior, unblinking, and took a step forward.

"Does this mean it's over?" he asked Kurt, a worried look on his face, making him look even younger than usual. His youthful face clouded with concern, he put an arm on his shoulder, reminiscent of the way Blaine had moments before.

Gazing forward, the encounter with Blaine fluttered around Kurt's mind for a moment, before his frenzied train of thought rested on the image of their tender kiss. His heart ached for a moment, the want and need in his veins nearly overpowering him and rendering him speechless. He knew with sudden certainty that his mission was, in fact, nowhere near over.

Looking up at Johnny, Kurt watched his friend's face become even more curious at the grin tugging at the sides of his mouth. "No, Johnny." He paused, and looked to the door. "This means that I'm going to try harder than ever."

...

**Oh, the end was kind of rushed, I just realized. So sorry about that.**

**And if I take long to update again, go to my author page and go to my tumblr (there is a link). Any questions can be left in my ask, and you'll have an explanation as to why the update is taking so long. It's not much, but I hate the thought of my readers thinking that I've 'given up' on this.**

**Because I definitely haven't.**


	10. Three Things That Piss You Off

**I am ashamed of myself for making you wait. I apologize.**

**AND HOLY CRAP FIRST POST SINCE KLAINE IS CANON *PARTAY HORN WOOT WOOT***

**Ahem. The following chapter is the longest yet. ****I've been really caught up in things again. But I PROMISE that I'll **_**try**_** for another chapter by next week.**

**...**

"This dare pretty much sucks."

"Agreed."

"Why am I here, again?"

Upon hearing that last sentence, Wes and David looked up from their iPhones to stare at Sebastian in wonderment. The three teenagers sat in Wes and David's dorm room on the morning of Day Five, Sebastian having been dragged to the room nearly by force during his free period. David and Wes exchanged confused glances, before simultaneously turning to the blonde Warbler.

"What do you mean, 'why are you here'?" Wes asked, completely oblivious to the look of discomfiture that was evident on Sebastian's face. Looking to David, he cocked his head in perplexity.

Sebastian huffed and crossed his arms, putting on a bitch-face and raising one eyebrow pointedly. He nodded to the phones in their hands, where they each had opened apps for The Love Dare, and were currently reading up on Dare Five. "What the hell do you think I mean? Why am I being dragged into this? I don't even know Kurt that well!"

Looking up from his phone, Wes grinned in response. "You're being dragged into this because we need manpower. If we want this to go off without a hitch, we're going to need some help."

David nodded in agreement. "Kurt and Johnny have proven that having merely two people attempting to accomplish this isn't going to cut it-"

"Well, look!" Sebastian interrupted, and gestured to them broadly. "Now you have four. Kurt and Johnny, plus you guys…yep, that makes four. Twice as much manpower. May I go now?" he asked pleadingly, and put his hands together in front of his chest, as if praying for permission to leave.

"It isn't just getting dares done." Wes sighed, and lowered his eyes to the floor. "We need some…muscle," he mumbled, scratching his arm awkwardly, "and you're a pretty big guy. We'll need someone to control Roger McKay, and anyone else that tries to get in the way. You can be that guy."

Appearing to be slightly offended, Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows. "What, like I'm all brawn, no brain? I'm smarter than _all of you_ idiots combined! I could get dares done just as easily as you could!" His defiant exclamation ended suddenly, as he noticed as the two teens before him smirking. Irritated with their ability to seem as if they knew things he didn't, he stepped forward in an attempt to be menacing. "What?"

David raised his eyebrows twice in succession, and Wes stifled a laugh. "You could get dares done, huh? So you'll help us?"

"What? _No_!"

"Yes, you will." Wes said confidently. "Because you're charmed by our wit, intelligence, and little quirks. And, also, I have it on good authority that you are currently crushing on one Johnny Martinez."

David turned to stare in amazement at his friend, apparently having been unaware of this until now.

"_THAT IS _NOT_ TRUE_!" the junior countered at an ear-splitting volume, as David ducked in terror and Wes simply smiled back at him. He began fumbling over his words as his eyes went wide. "I'm not g- not even g-"

"Gay?" Wes asked, seemingly amused. "Please. Sure, you seem like the all-American, football-playing, ladies' man. I'm actually pretty sure you _created_ that stereotype-" he stopped as David rolled his eyes, obviously weary of his efforts at being witty, and cleared his throat. Sebastian simply looked at them, horror apparent on his handsome features. "Anyways, I have…heard things. And I also noticed that, during Kurt's song, you couldn't take your eyes off of a certain violinist."

His face a deep scarlet, Sebastian shook his head furiously. "No, he's just, very, very good at what he does!"

"How hard would you kill me if I made a 'that's what she said' joke right now?"

The blonde teenager made a threatening advance toward the smaller boy, prompting David to intervene. Standing quickly, the dark teenager put a hand on Sebastian's chest and splayed another in Wes's direction.

"Hey, now," David said in a commanding voice, looking from a grinning Wes to Sebastian. "Calm down, the both of you."

Sebastian exhaled sharply and shook his hair from his face, before stepping backward. He took a few deep, focused breaths before speaking. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay. You're just defending your lover."

Instead of reacting violently, Sebastian simply shot Wes a fierce glare, before putting his face in his hands. He heaved a great sigh, as David and Wes exchanged curious looks. "Fine."

"'Fine', what?" David inquired hesitantly, hearing the blonde boy utter yet another defeated sigh.

There was silence for a few moments, before Sebastian muttered, "I'll help you."

"Really?" Wes asked hopefully.

Another few beats of silence. Then-

"Yes."

Wes held up a hand to his best friend for a high-five, to which David reluctantly complied. "Great. This means you can get closer to Johnny, and Kurt and Blaine will get together, and everything will be beautiful, and-"

"You _do _realize," David interrupted, looking at Wes as if he'd gone insane, "that there is no way that Johnny can know that we're helping this along, right? He'll just tell Kurt. And then…" he trailed off, and Wes needed no explanation as to what the consequences would be if the aforementioned diva knew of their participation in The Love Dare.

"Have you guys ever stopped to think that this is incredibly nosy?" Sebastian asked suddenly, and the other two boys looked startled, as if they'd forgotten his being present. David looked to Wes, who in turn just shrugged as Sebastian began again, "I mean, what if Kurt wants to do this on his own? _Without_ everyone butting in?"

Wes waved off his speculation with a dismissive hand. "Kurt and Johnny have already proven to be incompetent while trying to succeed in the dares. We are simply assisting them in their duties."

"Another question: why do you two care so much?"

At this, without hesitating, David and Wes answered at the same time, "Because we're Blaine's friends."

Looking befuddled, Sebastian squinted slightly at them, as if unable to process what they'd just said. "Yes, but if he hates Kurt so much, why do you want them together?"

"He doesn't hate Kurt," David answered. "He's just having a rough go of things right now." Pausing, he glanced to the boy beside him, who gave him a stiff nod. "And Kurt was right; if Blaine would just let him in, he wouldn't feel so awful. They're perfect for each other, they are in love, and it's the right thing to do. We're being good friends. Don't you want to help two people who are _so right_ for each other get together?" He raised an eyebrow, as if prompting Sebastian to think of how much the situation applied to his own life.

After a few moments, Sebastian sighed resignedly. "What was today's dare again?"

…

"Ugh," Kurt grumbled as he stabbed a piece of salad rather viciously with the end of his fork, and Johnny shot him an inquisitive glance from across the lunch table. He twirled said fork around in his bowl, crunching the low-fat croutons into dust and prompting his friend to clear his throat loudly.

"Um, Kurt?" Johnny asked timidly, and slowly took the bowl of vegetables from the boy in front of him. "Is…something wrong?" As he finished his question, the freshman winced slightly, as if anticipating an angry reaction.

Kurt looked up from the fork that remained in his hands, which he'd been staring at in apparent surprise. Silently, he pulled a paperback from behind himself and flourished The Love Dare in Johnny's bewildered face. "The problem," he began, and opened the book to a dog-eared page, "is today's dare. It is, perhaps, the most mortifying thing I've ever seen. In my entire life."

Wincing, Johnny began to read aloud from the page in front of him, "_'Ask your spouse to tell you three things that cause him or her to be uncomfortable or irritated with you_.'" He paused to squint at Kurt in apparent confusion, and slowly pushed Kurt's arms gently down. "I don't understand. What, exactly, is so mortifying about that? Other than the fact that it refers to Blaine as your spouse, and- oh, no, that didn't come out right-"

"You obviously don't understand, Johnny," Kurt interrupted, used to having to stop the younger boy's unceasing sentences before they could develop into never ending ramblings. "This means that I have to- have to just go up to him and-" he looked around himself, before leaning in to whisper, "-I'm going to seem pushy after yesterday, in my room. After that…kiss, he's going to think I just want back in all of a sudden."

"Isn't that kind of the point of all this?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I keep forgetting that you don't know Blaine very well. He doesn't take too well to pushiness. As evidenced by my embarrassingly emotional song during Warblers yesterday."

"Wait, didn't that turn out okay?" Johnny asked, furrowing his brow, and Kurt sighed in exasperation.

"It wasn't exactly our objective, though, was it?"

The edge in Kurt's voice made Johnny cringe. "Okay, okay, I'll stop talking now."

Kurt pulled his bowl towards himself and turned back to his salad, swirling it around his bowl as he lowered the book under the table, wary of casual passerby who might notice the title. As he chewed, he analyzed the dare, trying to think of several different excuses as to why this task would be impossible, and how it wouldn't end up being beneficial to the cause. _How do I even go about this? _he thought. Glancing up to see if Johnny was paying attention, he opened his mouth, and closed it as he saw Blaine enter the cafeteria.

A thud sounded as the book hit the floor, and Kurt scrambled to pick it up before Blaine could even glance their way. Johnny looked flustered, as if he wanted to help, but he simply flailed and kept looking back at Blaine every few seconds as Kurt jammed the paperback into his messenger bag.

Blaine's eyes flickered in his direction, and they locked gazes for a fraction of a second. His face heated as his skin started to prickle from the memory of the previous night, the kiss still etched into his mind. There was some disguised emotion on the senior's face, but before Kurt could even begin to comprehend it, the older boy had turned to have a seat next to Wes and David.

And, speaking of Wes and David, Kurt wondered why in the world they were staring at him like he had grown a third head.

…

_Kurt is in here? And why the hell are David and Wes peeking at me from behind the nonfiction section?_

Blaine Anderson was far from amused.

Was it really too much to ask, Blaine wondered, to be able to study in peace? _Come on, Kurt. It's a little soon to be confronting me about anything, isn't it?_ he mentally questioned the junior, who was currently standing across the room, a hesitant expression on his face as he tentatively began to walk toward Blaine. The older boy sighed, and saw Wes and David duck behind the shelves of the quiet library in his peripheral vision. Slamming his book shut, he reached a hand up to massage his forehead wearily, already envisioning the bouts of gossip that could emerge from the emotional outburst that, according to the past week's record, was inevitable in the moments following.

Dust danced on the air in the library, reflecting the late-evening sun and swirling like planets in a decrepit solar system, as Kurt made his way around the few study tables located in the middle of the room. As Blaine watched, he saw Wes and David sneaking yet another glance at him around the stacks, and he nearly rolled his eyes at their attempts at subtlety. He put his face in his hands and slumped his shoulders, bracing himself for more tears and recrimination, but flinched inwardly at his own callousness, suddenly ashamed that he was thinking of Kurt as nothing but a walking emotional upheaval of gargantuan proportions.

"Blaine?" Kurt's timid, soft voice asked from above him, jolting him out of his thoughts. The senior looked up into those beautiful blue-green eyes, seeing the uncertainty in them, and he once again felt ashamed for thinking about Kurt in such a way, for treating the teenager like he had been. _He looks kind of terrified. Determined, but…yes, definitely terrified. Not that I can blame him, after everything that happened yesterday-_ "if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take a minute of your time."

Blaine felt a dull ache at Kurt's formal tone, but quickly pushed any whispered thoughts of rekindled feelings away with images of his dying mother and the looming evaluation of his entire academic career. Clearing his throat, he clasped his hands together on the surface of the table. "That's fine. I was almost done for the night, anyways."

Kurt obviously didn't buy that, judging by the knowing look that he received in response to his statement. However, the younger boy sat down anyway, and gave Blaine a somewhat nervous smile. "No, you aren't. But this will literally take maybe a minute and a half." He blushed slightly, his eyes surveying the empty library for stray book-seekers and studying students, but apparently surmised that no one was present. "I have a few questions."

"Okay. But…" he trailed off, and his eyes flickered to the bookshelf beside them before he leaned in further, "you might want to be a bit quieter. Wes and David have been my shadows all day. Pretty damn annoying."

They both chuckled then, Blaine shooting his sort-of boyfriend a wink before remembering that he was supposed to be irritated with Kurt, not flirting with him. Falling silent, Blaine looked at his hands until Kurt spoke again, the air suddenly tense and filled with unspoken words.

"Well," Kurt began again, and leaned against the table slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I actually have one question, that requires three answers. Do you follow?" Blaine nodded, and Kurt continued slowly, louder this time, "Could you name three things I do that piss you off?"

"I'm sorry?" Blaine couldn't believe his ears, and wondered for a moment if he was going insane from all of his studying and stressing. His brows furrowed as his mouth opened a bit in disbelief, still contemplating his possible stress-induced lunacy. I didn't think that I saw Roger McKay slip me something at lunch, but-

Kurt interrupted his train of thought by clearing his throat loudly. "I asked if you could think of three of my, um, habits that tend to make you uncomfortable or irritated with me." Blushing a deep red, he shook his head slightly and slapped his temple lightly. "Oh, I knew this was going to be hard," he mumbled offhandedly to himself, as Blaine cocked his head in further confusion.

"Kurt?"

"Hmm?" His tone was distracted as he bunched his shoulders together in an apparent attempt at seeming smaller. "Oh, right, you want me to elaborate."

Stifling a laugh, Blaine nodded. "Some elaboration would be welcome."

"This is going to sound a bit pissy, but it's really none of your concern as of now. Maybe in thirty-or-so days-" Kurt cut himself off as Blaine looked even more puzzled, and Blaine saw him mouth, 'why did I just say that?'

Trying to be kind, Blaine pretended that he hadn't heard that entire sentence. "Three things you do that make me irritated? Why in the world would you ask that?"

"You heard me. It's none of your concern. Just spit it out, and I'll be on my way."

Surprised by Kurt's assertiveness, Blaine widened his eyes and held up both hands. _What the hell is going on? _he thought, observing the other boy's exasperation with bemused eyes, but decided to just give in to him, knowing that he'd never get work done with Kurt breathing down his neck. "Fine. Three things? You've got three things."

"Oh?"

The sudden interest with which Kurt was reacting amused Blaine, but he didn't feel the need to comment on it as he pushed a few of his books aside and rested his clasped hands on the table between them. He thought for a moment, before choosing to begin with the most obvious cause of his annoyance with Kurt. "Well, you're stubborn. To the point of being outright inflexible." He winced, expecting the junior to react with defensive words, but Kurt simply sat across from him and nodded. "Oh, and you complain about Finn a lot."

Kurt snorted, but stayed silent, his arms crossing over his chest.

Something ran through Blaine's mind, then, and before he could contemplate it, the words spilled from his mouth like water: "You have this newfound habit of publicly humiliating the both of us."

Kurt flinched backward, and Blaine found himself horrified by his insensitivity towards the younger boy. _Do you ever think before you speak? Because you damn well don't do a very good job at it_, he thought as he saw Kurt struggle to remain somewhat composed after the low blow that Blaine had just dealt. A blush rose on his cheeks, and Kurt appeared to slowly regain his ability to vocalize.

"I suppose that that's all I needed," the younger boy choked out quietly, and stood, avoiding eye-contact with Blaine as he directed his gaze toward the books on the table. "Thank you, Blaine."

"Kurt-" Blaine began, feeling ashamed and wanting to, in some way, console the junior before him. However, as he reached out a hand to Kurt, the other boy flinched away, spun toward the door, and set off at a deliberate pace. "Kurt, I didn't mean…!"

The wooden doors at the library's entrance slammed shut with a great amount of force, leaving Blaine to shake his head and pound a fist onto the surface of the study table below him. _Just because you don't love him anymore, doesn't give you the right to be a complete asshole_, he told himself, but was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw Wes and David tiptoeing from behind the shelf nearest him. Cocking his head in irritated curiosity, he caught Wes's eye. The Asian teenager's eyes widened enormously, and he gave a short yelp as he pushed David to the exit.

The doors once again opened and closed, this time with a rushed, yet quiet, click. In the resulting silence, Blaine looked around himself for a few moments, mulling over the previous minutes, and was only able to come up with one sentence to even come close to describing it efficiently:

"This place is a madhouse."

….

The only thing that Kurt could process at first was that Blaine was sitting five pews in front of him, and there was a petite, harried-looking woman shuffling papers in the front of the room, a cross bouncing against her sweater as she quickly organized said papers.

_Why did I come here? _Kurt mentally hissed at himself, and shook his head slightly, sliding his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose in an attempt at being inconspicuous. He glanced nervously beside himself, slightly unnerved by the casual clothing that everyone seemed to be wearing, as opposed to the frilly dresses and three-piece suits that he normally associated with church.

_At least I don't stick out as much_, he reasoned, and slid further down into his seat, observing the people around him as they conversed before the 'lesson' began. Noticing with some surprise that every person in the room seemed to be between the ages of twelve and eighteen, Kurt remembered the large sign out front (_MORNING WORSHIP IN CHAPEL AT 10 A.M. YOUTH WORSHIP IN FELLOWSHIP HALL AT 10 A.M.), _and could've slapped himself; of _course_ Blaine was a _youth_ member at his church. Kurt thanked all that was supposedly good and holy that he hadn't stumbled into the chapel with the adults, but instead had had enough common sense to shadow Blaine by a few yards after they'd both driven up and parked on opposite sides of the church's lot.

Which brought him back to the question of why in the world he had followed Blaine to church in the first place, seeing as how Day Seven had nothing to do with coming in contact with his estranged boyfriend.

_Well_, Kurt thought, and adjusted himself in his seat as someone laughed loudly beside him, _I just needed to see what he's like when he's away from all the stress. And if I do this, I might come to understand him a bit more._

Kurt nodded to himself, pleased with the explanation that his mind had come up with. Wondering vaguely if Blaine's parents also attended First Church of God, he sat up straighter, noticing that the atmosphere of the room had gone from joking and casual to silent and absorbed. Kurt tilted his chin upward and moved from side to side, trying to see the front of the room more clearly, but froze when Blaine turned to smile at someone in the pew behind him.

Holding his breath, he watched as the dapper young man turned once again to the front of the room, where Kurt knew that his eyes rested, captivated by the small woman as she cleared her throat loudly.

"Hi, guys," she announced to the room, and sent them a little wave. After receiving a few in response, she smiled warmly at the crowd of nearly fifty teenagers, setting her papers onto the pulpit-esque structure before her. "How was this week? Does anyone have anything specific to pray about before we start?"

A hand in the front rose tentatively into the air, and the middle-aged woman pointed to said hand, prompting the speaker to share as the entire group of teenagers shifted to look at the person. "Yes, Eli?" she asked, and the boy rose from his seat to address the group.

"My dad has two weeks left before he comes back home to the states," Eli informed the room, and ran a nervous hand through his curly, blonde hair. "If you could, Anne, just mention him in your prayers- I…I just want him to get home safely."

The woman (_Anne_, Kurt corrected in his mind, moving slightly to cross his legs) nodded and grinned at him, before looking around the room for more prayer requests. Seeing the lack of raised hands, she cleared her throat and shrugged. "You sure, guys? There isn't anything you'd like me to mention? Nothing you want help with? Because, who else it better to ask advice from than God?"

Kurt restrained a mental sarcastic remark of 'maybe someone who actually exists', and his eyes strayed to the back of Blaine's head as he saw the older boy shift in apparent discomfort. He was struck by the thought that Blaine was actually taking this seriously and regarded his God as an actual source for guidance. Feeling a twinge of some unfamiliar emotion, Kurt turned his eyes back to the small woman in the front of the room, who had put on her glasses and was bowing her head. He tilted his head downwards as she began the prayer, knowing that the easiest way of blending in was to go along with the routine.

"Dear Lord," Anne began in a hushed voice, and the emotion in her tone caused Kurt to glance upward. He found himself surprised by the look on her face, the determination and passion displayed on her slightly wrinkled face, and was taken aback by the apparent sincerity with which these people seemed to regard their prayer, "thank you, for this beautiful day, and that we can all be here to worship together and spend some time reflecting on our past week. You've helped us jump countless hurdles and overcome obstacles this week, and we'd like to thank you for being there for us and trying to guide our thoughts and actions to fit Your standards."

Though Kurt was paying only polite attention, he took a moment to consider that last sentence, and how it applied perfectly to his attempts at regaining Blaine's love with The Love Dare, before he shook his head; God didn't help me with those tasks. I did that myself, and with Johnny. And, even if God was real, and helped me, He'd be doing a pretty shoddy job.

"…and we pray for Mr. Hendrickson, and that the remainder of his time across seas would go smoothly and without incident, so he can come home to Eli, Kalissa, and Andrea happy and healthy. We know that You, God, with Your unconditional love for us, will keep us safe in the coming week, and we'd like to ask You for direction in our everyday lives; school, work, home, extracurricular activities- we want every moment to be dedicated to You. Please let this lesson today reach the hearts of every single boy and girl in this room, and help them to meditate on it in the coming week." Kurt raised one eyebrow at that, but bowed his head further and crossed his hands in his lap. "In Your name we pray, amen."

Three dozen heads rose simultaneously, and the aging pews around the room creaked under the shifting bodies of nearly forty teenagers. Kurt glanced beside himself at the girl seated next to him, and saw that she was rifling through a handout that was identical to the ones he'd seen in the entrance hall to the building. He wondered absentmindedly if he should have gotten one just to better fit in, but quickly dismissed the thought as Anne cleared her throat for the second time that morning. The older woman pushed her glasses further up onto her nose, turning to point a square object at the low ceiling, and a flimsy, seven-by-five screen soon lowered from a slight gap, stuttering and stopping a few times before coming to rest.

The redheaded boy seated next to Kurt let out a whoop, and the entire youth group seemed to break into applause. Looking around at the surrounding people as if they were insane, Kurt saw everyone nudging each other and laughing, as Anne took a bow and pointed to the screen.

She set the remote back onto her podium, and grinned at the roomful of teenagers. "Swanky, huh? Pastor Swanson decided to give the youth the leftover money from the remodeling fund. I mean," Anne began, her voice suddenly taking on an obnoxiously Southern tone, "we ain't ever seen technawlogy like that."

Ginger-guy once again let out a whoop of appreciation, causing the majority of the females in the room to giggle and whisper to each other. He grinned goofily over at Kurt and shrugged a bit, his bright blue eyes shining with laughter. "Seemed like the thing to do."

Before Kurt could inquire as to whether he was talking about his yelling, Anne pressed a button that made the screen flash to life before them. Still smiling, she attempted to quiet the talking adolescents by holding up both hands. The laughter and conversation in the room slowly tapered off as she walked over to a laptop that sat on a chair in the corner of the small room. Kurt observed her fiddling with it for a few moments, before a video appeared on the screen, and slid his sunglasses off as the room went dark. There were a few moments where the only sound was the ringing of tribal-sounding drums, and Kurt cocked his head curiously as a few 'oohs' sounded as the sepia-tone video played on the screen. After a few seconds, he recognized the song, and his mouth dropped open slightly as the singer began to croon:

"'_In the middle of the ni-i-ight_

_I go walkin' in my sleep _

_From the mountains of faith_

_To a river so deep-'"_

Kurt stared, dumfounded, at the figures moving on the screen. _Billy Joel?_ he thought, and failed to notice that many of the young adults around him had begun to dance in their seats. _Isn't he a bit-_

"'_I must be lookin' for something_

_Something sacred I lost_

_But the river is wide_

_And it's too hard to cross_.'"

The redhead started a rocking back and forth, and it was then that Kurt saw the majority of the youth group moving with the beat in some way or another. Anne smiled at them affectionately as a few girls in the pew behind Blaine's stood and began to sway back and forth, laughing and throwing their arms around each other. The chorus of the song started again, and Kurt felt himself gazing around himself in wonderment as Billy Joel sang:

"'_In the middle of the ni-i-ight_

_I go walkin' in my sleep_

_Through the jungle of doubt_

_To a river do de-e-eep_

_I know I'm searching for something_

_Something so undefined_

_That can only be seen _

_By the eyes of the blind.'"_

Two brown-headed twins at the front began to sing along, providing a nice, deep backup as the rest of the room continued to bop their way through "River Of Dreams".

"'_I'm not sure about a life after this_

_God knows I've never been a spiritual man_.'"

_Well_, Kurt thought, and smiled wryly to himself, _if that isn't a contradictory statement, I don't know what is. _

"'_Baptized by the fire, I wade into the river_

_That runs to the promised land-"_

He saw Blaine, then, moving to the rhythm with his fellow Christians, his once tense manner gone and replaced by amusement as he twirled a small girl around amidst the sea of dancing bodies. The happiness evident on his face did not go unnoticed by Kurt, as the mass of adolescents went silent with anticipation, before bursting out in time with the music:

"'_IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NI-I-IGHT_

_I GO WALKING IN MY SLEEP_

_THROUGH THE DESERT OF TRUTH_

_TO THE RIVER SO DE-E-EEP.'"_

The crowd began to laugh as they looked at each other, fumbling through the remainder of the lyrics, apparently having not heard this song before and only having memorized the catchy beginning of the chorus.

"'_We all end in the ocean_

_We all start in the streams_

_We're all carried along_

_By the river of dreams_

_In the middle of the ni-ight_."

The song slowly trailed off into nothing as the video played more sepia-hued scenes from Billy Joel's music video, and could barely be heard above the excited, playful chatter that filled the room. Kurt had to admit that the song had caught his attention from the beginning, and really? Who didn't enjoy listening to Billy Joel? He found himself smiling and giggling with the rest of the congregation, and shook his head in amazement when he realized that he was having fun.

At _church_.

He supposed he'd had fun at Mercedes' church soon after his father's heart attack; but those people were nowhere near as rambunctious and energetic as this bunch of devout teenagers seemed to be. Grinning from ear to ear, he clapped along with the redhead beside him and watched Blaine from afar, the smile slipping slowly from his face as he saw Blaine pick up the small girl and spin around.

It wasn't, however, the fact that he'd picked up the girl; Kurt knew that Blaine was gay, and the small female appeared to be around the age of fourteen. It was the look on Blaine's face, so joyful and warm, a look that Kurt hadn't seen on his features in a very long time. He took in the sight of the genuine smile and crinkled nose, and felt his heart falter slightly.

_So this is what it takes to make him happy? Singing along to Billy Joel?_

Interrupting his train-of-thought, Anne abruptly shut off the video and clapped her hands together once, stepping back to the center of the stage and gazing out at the newly silenced audience as they slowly took their seats. She grabbed the remote to the screen and pointed it once again at the piece of equipment, and a blue PowerPoint presentation appeared.

There were a few moments of quiet, as Kurt and the surrounding youth watched the small middle-aged woman pace across the stage, looking at her feet as she allowed the last of the giggles and whispers to disappear.

"What is "River Of Dreams" about?" she asked, and paused at her spot on the left side of the small platform. Pursing her lips, she gestured to the screen, where her question was displayed for the congregation. Anne waited, and crossed her arms before coming back to her podium and picking up a paper.

Kurt looked around at the others in the room, to see that everyone was doing to same thing as he was; sending questioning glances each other's way as Anne made a clucking sound.

"Ah, I see. Too caught up in the music to listen to the lyrics, huh?" With that, Anne pressed another button, and another slide popped up with a few lyrics of the slide as she read, "_'I must be looking for something/ Something sacred I lost_'. What do you think that means?"

"Uh," a voice said, and Kurt was mildly shocked to see Blaine raising a hand in the air. "I guess it just means what it says. Billy Joel was searching for something, and he wasn't sure what it was."

Anne nodded, her eyebrows shooting halfway up her forehead. "Thank you, Blaine Anderson, for actually answering my question instead of letting me stand here for ten minutes. Four for you, Blaine-Coco. You could teach this room of worthless dunces a lot about participation."

Blaine let out a laugh, along with the rest of the room, and Kurt nodded his approval at the Mean Girls reference.

Anne shushed them gently, and flipped to another slide on her PowerPoint. "This session is the first in our fall series. I'd like to call this week's lesson, 'Searching For God Knows What'." She paused again, and a few slides with the title of the lesson and series slid past, before coming to rest on one with two questions. "What do you think people are searching for? What is it people desire in life?"

A girl in the front called out, "Success!", as the boy beside Kurt yelled, "Babes!"

Anne sent a knowing look in the redhead's direction, and Kurt shrank away slightly, determined to not be seen as guilty-by-association; this Anne woman seemed nice and all, but she also seemed to be a bit of a firecracker. "Those are both true, you guys. But you're neglecting one of the biggest ones." Stopping suddenly, she shot another look back at Ginger-guy as she gave a soft smile. "Although I suppose that it could fall under the category of Benjamin's proposal, I'm talking about love."

A few females in front of Kurt perked up instantly, and he saw the blondest of them nudge a black-haired girl and mouth, "Jack", making the girl blush wildly and smack her arm.

"What are you searching for? Babes, as Ben suggested? Success? What do you desire in life? Is there one thing, out of every other worldly feeling or possession, that you look at and think, 'hey, if I had that, I'd be okay for the rest of my life'?"

_Blaine._

Kurt looked at the back of said boy's head, seeing the senior glance over at the girl he'd been dancing with earlier, and tuned out Anne's loud voice for a few minutes as he mulled that over in his mind. Blaine would really be that thing for me? Not my dad being healthy? Or a million dollars, or superstardom?

He was ashamed to admit it, but his mind confirmed it with conviction. It seemed as if set in metaphorical stone inside his head, now that he'd come to realize it; _If I had Blaine Anderson, I'd be okay for the rest of my life._ The thought terrified him in a way, but he knew with absolute certainty that it was the truth. Blaine was his goal in life, his desire; not Broadway, not fame.

_If I have Blaine Anderson, I'll be okay for the rest of my life._

"Mr. Joel had all of the things that we've just outlined; success," Anne said, and the next slide appeared, displaying the album cover of 'Billy Joel: Greatest Hits Volume III'. "Fame." Another click, and then a picture of Elton John with Billy Joel was displayed before Kurt's eyes. He watched as Anne turned back to the audience and shot them a Cheshire-cat smile, before changing slides for the third time. " 'Babes'," she finished, and several people in the youth laughed as a picture of Billy Joel and his wife showed up on the screen. "These were the things that he was searching for his entire life; and he got them, didn't he?"

The crowd murmured in agreement.

His eyes flickering to Blaine, Kurt saw his distant boyfriend nodding and leaning over to whisper into the ear of the girl beside him. I know what Blaine desires in life, he thought venomously, and his mind filled with images of countless SAT prep books, stacked alongside copies of Vogue. _He desires to get the hell out of this place and leave me here. He's searching for bigger things than me._ Kurt knew that it was spiteful of him to think this way; he was aware that his bitterness and need for Blaine were starting to get the better of him.

"…search left him?" Anne was asking, pulling Kurt away from his thoughts to listen to her speak, though he had no idea as to why he was even paying attention at all. It's interesting…for now, he thought, knowing that, as soon as Bible verses were being tossed around, his attention would be directed elsewhere. "He got every single one of those things, but you know what?" She strode to the screen that hung from the ceiling and pointed at it vigorously. Kurt squinted at the type, and silently read: 'Elton John Rehab Comments; Billy Joel Not Angry'. "The man became addicted to drugs. All of those things that he got out of life…and he didn't even enjoy them, obviously."

Anne turned back to them all, and her gaze roved around the room, seeming to be staring into each and every teenager's soul. When her eyes locked with Kurt's he shifted uncomfortably and slid further down into his seat, almost cowering away from her fierce stare; he had no idea what made her so terrifying, but he didn't feel like questioning it.

She stepped close to her podium again, splaying her hands across the wooden surface. "He wasn't searching for God. He was _searching for the wrong things_."

Letting that hang in the air, Anne cast another look around the room, as Kurt looked to the floor and held back a snort at her attempt to put the fear of God in him. He knew that it was nearly time for the lesson to take a Biblical direction, and busied himself with picking lightly at his cuticles as she began to recite a verse from Ecclesiastes.

Kurt glanced up every few moments, resting his eyes on the back of Blaine's head and biting back a wistful sigh, thinking of the first week of The Love Dare, and the great lot of nothing it had done for their relationship. His mind flitted between recent memories and times that seemed incredibly distant, though each recollection had one thing in common: Blaine and Kurt, and their relationship together.

He continued to reminisce, even as Anne's voice rose to a fever pitch, and the passion in her eyes reached a boiling point, not bothering to even begin to pay attention, though the boy that he was currently thinking of was concentrating on the feisty woman on the platform. Several minutes past, and Kurt was beyond even trying to absorb anything that Anne was saying, and instead focused on Blaine's slight movements.

_Look at this_, a thought suddenly struck Kurt, _Why the hell am I here? There was no real point to this. I haven't seen anything different in Blaine, other than the fact that church makes him happy._ Which, come to think of it, concerned Kurt slightly; they'd been going out for nearly eight months or so, and, though Kurt had made his opinion on God clear, he still would've thought that Blaine would at least share a story of something funny in Sunday school every once in awhile. Maybe something that Benjamin said, a flubbed line in a Christmas play, anything; but, no, Kurt had never heard anything about this youth group, no funny happenings, no drama. No nothing.

And, for some reason, that irked him.

When Anne's voice suddenly went silent, Kurt found himself so surprised that he pulled out of his thoughts and looked up at her, to see her looking back at the crowd with moist eyes. Shocked, Kurt couldn't help but listen as she began in a broken voice, "Some on you have maybe not ever thought about God." Uttering a short, humorless laugh, Anne ran a hand through her dark, wild hair, and Kurt saw that she was shaking. "Or maybe you have thought about him…and rejected him."

Kurt may have been paranoid, but he could've sworn that her gaze fell solely on him in that instant, burning, yet in a way, almost hopeful. And there was a glint of recognition in those eyes.

_Oh, damn._

_You're simply being paranoid_, Kurt scolded himself before his mind could run away from him and create insane theories. _And stop acting like this is some spy-caper where you are James Bond, or something akin to that. There isn't some conspiracy going on. This is a_ church.

While he'd been panicking, Anne had been continuing her sermon with just as much vigor as before, attempting to drive the point home. "I'm going to read a quote from Francis Chan, author of 'Crazy Love'. Which is actually the book that I'm using as a sort of guide for this series." She plucked a book from the podium, along with a pair of glasses attached to a string. Sliding the frames onto her pointy nose, she began to flip through pages quickly. Coming to a stop, she placed a finger on the book's page and read: "_'Most of us know that we are supposed to love and fear God; that we are supposed to read our Bibles and pray, so that we can get to know him better; that we are supposed to worship him with out lives. But actually living it out is challenging. It confuses us when loving God is hard. Shouldn't it be easy to love a God so wonderful? When we love God because we feel we should love him, instead of genuinely loving out of our true selves, we have forgotten who God really is. Our spiritual amnesia is flaring up again_.'"

Kurt laughed along with a few other people in the audience, and admired that they were willing to poke innocent fun at themselves. He had to admit that it often seemed to him that Christians only believed in God because they were 'supposed to'; it was nice to know that not only atheists recognized this.

"The point of this, you guys," Anne began, and set the book gently down, a small smile on her aged face, "is not that you are bad Christians. Sure, there are probably some in here who only come because their parents make them, or because they have nothing better to do." A few people in the audience squirmed, to Kurt's slight amusement. "The point of this is that these 'things' we're searching for- they aren't what we should be looking for. We need to be searching for the correct way to love God, and set all these other things aside. Now, I'm not saying that those things are sinful- there is nothing wrong with wanting success, or notoriety, or love; but those shouldn't be our main focus in our lives as servants of God."

She took a deep breath and smirked at them good-naturedly. "In the next few weeks, we are going to look at who God is. Who we are. And why only He can truly satisfy us."

_Thank heavens that I didn't come to this thing _next _week_, Kurt thought with some relief._ I don't think I'd be able to take all that Bible-quoting and studying of 'who God is'. _Kurt, however, knew that his attempts at sarcasm and contempt throughout the sermon had been feeble; it wasn't as bad as he'd thought, and he knew that the only reason he'd been so averse in the first place was because this was Blaine's church; after Mercedes', he remembered thinking that he could possibly bear going to church once more, if it only meant that he got to splurge on fabulous headwear.

Though he hadn't notice at first, the atmosphere in the room had changed dramatically once again, and everyone was smiling at each other and making small talk as a few kids climbed onto the stage to fool with some musical equipment.

_Music._

Kurt inwardly groaned; he didn't think he could even pretend to be enthusiastic about singing to the Most High God of Nowhereland. First of all, he found that most contemporary songs seemed to be ridiculously similar to each other. Second, he loathed singing things that he didn't mean, whether it be a gospel tune or a song that said 'girl' a lot.

_I'll just pretend that I suck and don't want to embarrass myself. And I went through all the trouble of dressing in this discreet black outfit; my voice will make me stand out._

Finding those to be good excuses, Kurt nodded in approval as another thought struck him: now was as good a time as any to escape this place without Blaine's notice; several people were standing and stretching, chatting and giggling as the band set up on stage.

_Excuse yourself to the bathroom. No one will notice but the guy beside you._

Said redhead happened to be standing and flirting will several girls in the pew in front of him, and Kurt had just stood to make his getaway when-

"Oh, and Blaine! You said you'd like to sing something this week, right?"

Anne's voice echoed around the room, making Kurt's head snap up in surprise. His eyes found Blaine, who was standing hesitantly and shoving his hands into the pockets of a pair of corduroy pants. "Yes, Annie, if you wouldn't mind. I went over it with the band, and the songs fits this week's theme quite nicely."

_Must he always be so articulate and dapper?_

"Great!" the small woman exclaimed with a bright smile. "Come on up here, kid!"

Kurt was unable to move, and he wasn't sure as to exactly why that was so. _What is wrong with you_? he scolded himself. _It was kind of obvious, wasn't it? Blaine's only the most talented person you know, it's kind of a given that he sings outside of Dalton._ However, he was incapable of making his feet move, his eyes transfixed on the walking figure of the boy he loved. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't heard Blaine sing outside of Warblers in quite awhile.

The youth slowly began to quiet and sit down, and Kurt sat with them, his eyes still fixed upon Blaine as the boy climbed onto the platform.

"Hi, you guys," Blaine said as soon as he reached a microphone that had been set up in the middle of the stage. He tapped lightly on it, before leaning back and grinning a bit when a loud thud sounded through the speakers. "I've had…kind of a rough week. And, to be perfectly honest, I didn't act very admirably. I was, in fact, a jerk."

Kurt couldn't keep himself from gaping if he tried.

"…and I haven't exactly been to God for guidance, even though I sure as heck needed it." That earned a laugh from the group of teenagers, but Kurt still remained frozen in his seat, unable to believe the things that he was hearing. "I'd like to apologize to that person in spirit." Blaine inhaled shakily once, and paused, adjusting his bowtie. "And, I'd also like to apologize to the Big Guy Upstairs. Because I've been going through a lot lately, and I've kind of forgotten what these next few weeks are sure to teach us; that He cares, and wants to help…and that He loves us."

The audience began to clap, and Blaine ducked his head. His mouth still agape, Kurt watched as Blaine wiped his eyes on his sleeve, apparently having had tears in his eyes. It stunned Kurt to see Blaine being so open in front of so many people; he'd sung to a crowd before with tears in his eyes, but he'd never been open about the reason behind the tears.

Kurt was suddenly jealous of every person in the room; Blaine was comfortable enough to share things with them, laugh with them, dance with them. And he'd been treating Kurt as if he were infected with some deadly virus.

The pianist sitting on the far end of the platform began with a few simple notes, as a long-haired boy playing guitar began to strum with the piano, creating an admittedly nice intro. Kurt watched as Blaine closed his eyes and swallowed a few times, tapping his foot to the beat of the song, before opening his mouth to sing:

"_He is jealous for me_

_Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree_

_Bending beneath the weight of His wind and_

_Mercy_

_When all of a sudden_

_I am unaware of these affliction eclipsed by glory_

_And I realize just how beautiful You are_

_And how great Your affections are for me_."

His eyes widening, Kurt listened to Blaine's voice with slight awe as he looked upon his love standing on the stage; stripped bare, not hiding behind his uniform, or his charm.

"_And oh_

_How He loves us_

_Oh, oh, how He loves us_

_How He loves us all."_

The drummer behind Blaine began a steady beat now, as an older, Asian girl began to play chords on the electric guitar. Kurt watched as Blaine held onto the microphone, but looked to his feet as they tapped to the rhythm of the song, before repeating the first verse:

"_And He is jealous for me_

_Loves like a hurricane_

_I am a tree_

_Bending beneath, the weight of His wind_

_And me-e-ercy_."

Blaine began singing more earnestly as the accompaniment's volume rose considerably, his face twisted with some emotion that Kurt only read as anguish.

"_When all of a sudden_

_I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory_

_And I realize just how beautiful You are_

_And how great Your affections are for me_."

Kurt was utterly baffled by the intensity with which Blaine was singing; he'd thought that his number for Warblers a few days previous had been powerful, but that was nothing compared to the emotions that Kurt observed flitting across Blaine's features as he launched into the chorus:

"_Oh, how He loves-_

_Yeah, He loves us_

_Oh, how He loves us_

_Oh, how He loves us _

_Oh, how He loooves_

_And we are His portion _

_And He is our prize_

_Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes_

_If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking_."

Tears shone in Blaine's eyes as his face contorted with the effort to keep his emotions at bay, and the effort that he was putting forth to stop his crying broke Kurt's heart.

"_And heaven meets Earth like an unforeseen kiss_

_And my heart turns violently_

_Inside of my chest_

_I don't have time to maintain these regrets _

_When I think about_

_The way-"_

Blaine had never sung like this, Kurt was sure of that. Never had he heard his voice sound so…honest, and, as much as Kurt hated to admit, so amazingly beautiful. The sincerity and utter love that he was singing with was completely spellbinding. It didn't matter to Kurt that the lyrics went against everything he believed in; he could see that, behind the tears in his eyes, Blaine was absolutely joyous to be up there, singing to an imaginary being in the sky. It was insane, and illogical, but at the moment, Kurt didn't really give a damn; his Blaine looked peaceful, and happy, and there was no way that he was going to attempt to undermine the beauty of it all by involving theological arguments.

"_Oh, how He loves us_

_Oh, oh, how He lo-oves us_

_How He loves us all_

_How He loves!"_

Falling freely down his handsome face, Blaine's tears shone in the light from the single spotlight on the stage, as he began to sing with more drive than ever:

"_Yeah, He loooves us_

_Oh, how He loves us_

_Oh, how He loves us_

_Oh, how He looooves!_

_Oh, I love!"_

The crowd of swaying teenagers began to echo him as he sang, providing a flawless harmony that gave Kurt cold chills. He let the music wash over him, not paying the words any mind, as he listened to the boy he loved sing his heart out.

"_Yeah, He looooves us_

_(He loves us, oh, how, He loves us)_

_Yeah, He looooves us_

_(He loves us, oh, how, He loves us)_

_Yeah, He loooves us_

_(He loves us, oh, how, He loves)_

_Oh, how, He looooves us all…"_

The song subsided into nothingness as the final chord of the electric guitar faded, and Blaine stood, panting, as the entire room went silent. No one spoke, and Kurt couldn't blame them; he was still reveling in the sensation of hearing Blaine become so raw, so emotional.

It was a bittersweet feeling, however; Kurt knew that, no matter how much he'd like to believe it, Blaine wasn't singing to him, or for him. He was singing to a supposed 'entity' that Kurt had zero faith in, but he still found it impossible to find anything other than beauty in the performance.

Finally, a gruff voice interrupted his thoughts, as Blaine said, "Thank…thank you, guys. I'd forgotten…what it was like to- to sing to Him like that. It's been so long, and-" he cut himself off as he buried his face in his hands, and, all at once, the roomful of adolescents were making their way onto the stage and hugging Blaine. Only a few people remained in their seats, including Kurt, as he watched the display of friendship and caring before him that could only compare to his time with New Directions. He found himself stunned to see that many of the other teens were crying and/or smiling at Blaine adoringly.

_I don't belong here._

As soon as he thought that, Kurt stood and made his way quickly down the aisle, unable to believe that he'd decided to come here in the first place.

_I came here because I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd understand Blaine for the first time in a long time. But I still don't. I have no idea as to why he can love someone who isn't there, yet fall out of love with me._

"_I'm right _here," he whispered, and shoved aside a chair in his effort to leave the place as quickly as possible. He burst out of the meeting room, sliding his sunglasses back onto his face as he stealthily strode through the lobby of the church.

He had nearly reached the exit, tears already threatening, when he bumped into something.

"Hello," a female voice said, and, to Kurt's utter horror, he saw that it was Anne that he'd bumped into. She cocked her head in perplexity and raised an eyebrow at him, though she gave him a warm smile. "Somewhere to be?"

"Oh, um, no, I-"

Before Kurt could manage to fumble over even more words, Anne crinkled her eyebrows, appearing to be thinking hard. "You know Blaine, don't you?"

_Oh, holy hell_. "N-No," he stuttered, as it occurred to him that it was very possible that Blaine hadn't exactly come out to the church. Though he was harboring resentment towards him, Kurt would never out anyone without their consent.

Also, he'd rather not have Anne mention this to Blaine.

_Hell no_.

"Yeah, you do," Anne said, nodding and holding out a hand. "You're his…boyfriend, right?"

"Excuse me?" _Am I hearing right. Did she just…?_

"I definitely saw pictures of you guys on Facebook. You're his boyfriend."

_Damn Blaine and his addiction to social-networking sites_, Kurt thought, and stammered for a moment before he realized exactly what the woman was asking.

A _youth pastor_ was asking him if he was Blaine's boyfriend. With a smile on her face. And a hand stretched out toward him.

"He's- he's out?" Kurt found himself asking in a hushed voice, and Anne laughed, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

"Oh, honey, he's been out to the youth group since he was fourteen. We were the second people he told, next to his parents." She gritted her teeth, obviously remembering something from a time when Kurt was a freshman at McKinley and knew nothing of Blaine Anderson. "Except, unlike his parents, we don't care that he's gay."

"You- you don't? But doesn't the Bible say…"

"The Bible says love every human being as you love yourself. Blaine's like a little brother, or son, to me. And the way society misconstrues the Bible will have no effect on the way I feel about him."

That was a lot to process. Almost too much.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Kurt said, rushing his words as he held out a hand to shake. "I can't let him- let him see me here. I shouldn't even be here."

Anne quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "And why's that?"

"I don't believe in God," he blurted before he could stop himself, and opened his mouth in horror afterwards, practically able to hear the disapproval and harshness that would come in the wake of his admitting that to a devout Christian.

Anne smiled gently at him, her demeanor changing from curious and questioning to kind. Kurt stared in shock as she laid a hand softly on his bicep and squeezed. "That doesn't mean you can't come to church. There are plenty of people," she paused to gesture towards large mahogany doors, behind which was what Kurt assumed to be the sanctuary, "in there who don't believe in God."

Confused, Kurt shook his head slightly. "That doesn't make sense to me."

Anne sighed. "Me either. But, there will always be fakers in our midst."

"Let the devil sort them out, right?" Kurt asked timidly, attempting to be humorous.

Anne smiled, but shook her head. "No, let _God _sort them out."

Before Kurt could contemplate what that meant, the doors to the youth room burst open, flooding the lobby with teenagers who were anxious for lunch. Anne patted his arm and whispered something that sounded like, "I won't tell him," and Kurt left.

Upon reaching his Navigator, Kurt unlocked the door and jumped inside before revving up the engine. He sat in silence for a few minutes, going over the past hour in his head as the radio turned to his Madonna mix CD and "Vogue" began to blare through his speakers.

"What the hell was that?"

...

**Oh, hai rushed ending.**

**Sorry about that. I just KNEW I had to get this up by tonight.**

**And how many of you liked the twist with Sebastian. It came out of freaking nowhere.**

**And also, if you're irritated by the religious content of this, please send me a private message as opposed to bad reviews. Unless you'd like to complain about my writing style or slow or something like that, just send a message. **

**THERE WON'T BE ALOT WITH THIS MUCH RELIGIOUS CONTENT. AND FYI, KURT IS **_**N**_**OT QUESTIONING HIS ATHEISM RIGHT HERE, IN CASE THAT CAME ACROSS. HE'S STILL COMPLETELY CONFIDENT THAT NO GOD EXISTS.**

**And, finally, I'd like to say that I tried to convey his cynical attitude toward Christianity well. Confession? I haven't seen "Grilled Cheesus" in it's entirety (still not sure why). So I may not have it down to a T, but, hey, I tried.**

**Songs used: "River of Dreams" by Billy Joel, and "How He Loves", by the David Crowder Band.**

**LISTEN TO THE SONGS. YOU'LL LOVE THE IMAGE OF BLAINE AND KURT BOPPING TO THE FIRST ONE. And the second one should be listened to while you read. It's much more powerful.**

**Reviews?**


	11. The Unlikely Evolution of Quinn Fabray

**Okay, wow. Um.**

**I don't even have words to convey how sorry I am. I just…this past year or so was kind of insane. I know, I know, I have no excuses. I was just very, **_**very **_**blocked when it came to this story. And I'm so, so sorry for that. And I must worn you that this isn't my neatest work- I have a feeling that there are a LOT of mistakes, but I don't use a beta or edit my stuff very much, so work with me.**

**I realize that most of this story is rendered completely divergent from canon. Good lord, I have a character named **_**Sebastian. **_**For those of you just tuning in, I created him in January of last year, when this was first published, and so my Sebastian in NOT based on canon Seb. Cool? Okay. (I swear that Ryan Murphy reads fanfiction, you guys.)**

**Well, here it is. 'The Love Dare' returns from its, er…lengthy hiatus.**

**(also: any Spanish that is used in this chapter may not be exactly right. I got help from someone else- I'm certainly not fluent- and it may say 'pancakes are good' or something like that.)**

**THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MY BEST FRIEND SHELBY BECAUSE I FORGOT HER BIRTHDAY AND THIS IS HER PRESENT**

…

* * *

_Knock, knock._

"Someone's at the door, Kurt," Johnny Martinez said on the afternoon of Day Nine of 'The Love Dare', his voice monotonous as he worked furiously over a Latin translation, scribbling and erasing frantically. His older friend cocked his head in wonderment, no longer absorbed in his reading.

Intrigued, Kurt sat up on the Johnny's bed, curious and wary at the same time; he had absolutely no clue as to whom the visitor was, and simultaneously hoped that it wasn't Blaine. Gently lowering 'The Love Dare' from in front of his face, Kurt placed the book under the bedside table and cautiously stood before stopping.

"Johnny, you're closer to the door. Open it."

The freshman's head snapped up, his translation forgotten as Kurt fixed him with an attempt at a domineering stare. Disbelief clouded his youthful features as he shook his head. "Can't you see I'm busy?" he asked incredulously, gesturing toward his homework with his pencil.

Kurt sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, hugging himself and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He knew that his fear of Blaine having found out about his recent escapade involving First Church of God and coming to confront him about it was wildly irrational; he'd asked Anne not to mention it to the dark-haired senior, and she'd seemed sincere. However, there was still a part of Kurt that couldn't help but become uneasy upon thinking that Blaine could possibly know; one of the youth members may have mentioned it, or he could have seen Kurt as he'd sung his solo to the group.

Either way, Kurt was hesitant.

"What if it's Blaine?" he asked Johnny, his eyes wide and slightly fearful as they flickered between the freshman and the door.

Johnny's brows knit together on his forehead, and Kurt knew what was coming next before it even left the boy's mouth. "Doesn't Dare Nine say something about greeting your 'spouse' in a way that reflects your love for them?" he asked, referencing that day's dare as he turned to fully face Kurt. "This is your chance to check this one off of the list! That is, unless you don't have a greeting prepared…I can help you! Come on, we can think of something before-"

His rambling was interrupted by three more knocks on the door.

"I'm afraid that he may have found out about my…excursion two days ago." Kurt's voice was urgent and hurried as he attempted to quickly explain his hesitance to his friend, even as another sharp rap sounded on the wood, so hard that it nearly shook in its frame.

"You're going to have to face him sooner or later, anyways. Answer the damn door, Kurt."

"No!"

Johnny huffed, and, with a roll of his eyes, stood to open the door to whatever lay on the other side. Feeling quite the coward (but grateful for Johnny's giving in all the same), Kurt winced as his younger friend turned the knob and slowly pulled the door open.

There was a moment of silence, in which Kurt held his breath and closed his eyes, anticipating Blaine's soft voice asking, 'May I speak to Kurt?', or something akin to that. However, the sound of his estranged boyfriend's voice never reached his ears; instead, there came a few squeals and a slightly masculine shriek that could only belong to Johnny as a group of people stampeded into the room.

"KURT, WHAT'S HAPPENING?" Johnny yelled as Kurt's eyes flew open to see numerous females charging toward him from their positions a few yards away. He had a split second to brace himself before he was encompassed by girls pressing in at all sides, some squealing and fussing, some pushing against each other to get to him.

"What are you _doing _here?" Kurt addressed the ladies of New Directions as they swarmed him, feeling someone tug at his hair and stopping himself from slapping whomever the hand belonged to. A brief flash of blonde hair whipped across his face, and he recognized the vague scent of Lipsmackers and cat as he smiled fondly, if not confusedly, at the girl that stood squarely in front of him. "Hi, Britt."

The blonde smiled at him and grabbed his hand, even as the teenage girls surrounding him continued to pound against him like Johnny's bed were a stage and their current position a mosh pit. "Hey, Kurt. I don't know why we're here, either."

"Kurt, who _are _these people?" Johnny's voice sounded from somewhere in front of him, slight horror marring his tone.

"They're- oof!" Kurt exclaimed when someone's knee connected with his lower stomach, dangerously close to his groin. Having had enough of the sea of young ladies, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly.

The effect was instantaneous; several girls yelped and placed their hands over their ears, and Mercedes glared at them from her spot by the door, apparently having not been a part of the group squashing. Curious as to why she seemed to be irritated with them, Kurt turned to look at all of the girls of his former glee club, feeling a twinge in his chest upon seeing all of the familiar faces.

He abruptly turned to face Mercedes, a hand on his hip as he gestured to the girls that formed a semi-circle around him. "Why are they here?"

"_Someone_ told them about you and Blaine having problems," his best friend answered, also placing her hands on her hips and cocking an eyebrow in Rachel's general direction. Kurt spun to face her as the brunette, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words.

"It- I- Finn told me!" Rachel exclaimed, obviously frightened by Kurt's death stare. "And I felt that you might need some support in your time of need!"

"And how the _hell _did Finn find out?" Kurt asked, exasperated by the fact that his private life couldn't seem to stay...well, private. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he shook his head at the ceiling as he looked up and waited for an answer.

Mercedes spoke this time, her voice hesitant for the first time. "Um, hon, that would be my fault," she answered sheepishly, and he whipped his head in her direction as she stepped forward. "He kept on asking why you were being so reclusive and not talking to any of us-"

"_Finn _used the word 'reclusive'?"

Sighing, Mercedes rolled her eyes. "No. That's not the point, Kurt." She paused and pointed at Rachel, obvious disdain on her face. "Anyways, he kept begging, and I finally caved and told him. And then he must've told _Streisand_ over here."

Kurt nodded in comprehension, everything fitting together in his mind. "Ah. And so this is Rachel's doing," he stated dryly, turning the full force of his glare on the diva once again.

Holding up a hand, Rachel stepped forward guardedly. "While I don't approve of the use of my idol's last name as an insult, I _do _admit freely to informing the Glee girls of your recent misfortune." Looking at Kurt pleadingly, she waved a hand in the direction of her fellow glee clubbers, her voice suddenly softening. "We just wanted to talk to you about it."

"Well, I really would like some notice next time you plan to ambush me at school. Speaking of," he began, his eyebrows furrowing. "How did you guys get in here? There's a strict rule against girls in the dorms."

Santana stepped forward from behind Quinn and Lauren, holding up the hand that wasn't clasped in Brittany's and smirking at him. "That would be where my talents come in."

"Do I even want to know?" Kurt asked, directing the question at Tina.

The Asian girl shook her head slowly, raising both of her eyebrows. "No, you really don't."

Kurt sighed, closing his eyes momentarily and running his tongue along the inside of his cheek, willing his mind to stop racing with the disturbing possibilities. Allowing himself a breather, he thought of the coming discussion and mentally prepared himself for the rehashing of numerous painful details, before remembering his poor, confused roommate.

He glanced over to the desk, where his friend was currently standing, frozen, a mildly frightened look on his face. "Oh, and please apologize to my roommate for trampling over him."

Seven heads of long hair whipped around to fix on Johnny, whose eyes widened even more so under their stares. Kurt observed with amusement as the freshman's adam's apple bobbed in his throat with an audible gulp, before the younger boy spoke.

"Hello?" Johnny said timidly, his statement actually more of a question and his face still displaying shock.

A voice piped up from Kurt's right, sounding mystified as it inquired, "San, is this Kurt's new midget?"

"No, Britt," Santana replied, looking at the blonde with affection and slight resignation.

Breathing out heavily, Kurt reached up to knead at his temple once more, thinking that this was going to be a _long _afternoon.

….

* * *

"Well _shit. _We can't even _help _with this one," Wes was saying as and David walked into their mutual dorm room after an intense round of studying in the library, staring at his phone with a look of disappointment on his face.

"Why?" David asked, shrugging off his messenger bag onto the desk that sat near the entrance and earning a look of exasperation from Wes.

Sighing, the Asian boy threw his bookbag hastily onto the floor and strode up to his friend, shoving his iPhone into the taller boy's face without warning. David rolled his eyes and, grabbing ahold of Wes's wrist, pulled the small screen away from his face, beginning to read Day Nine of _The Love Dare_:

"'_Think of a specific way you'd like to greet your spouse today. Do it with a smile and with enthusiasm. Then determine to change your greeting to reflect your love for them_'," he read aloud from the phone, squinting momentarily before fixing his best friend with a look. "You're right. We can't help with this one."

Wes flopped backward onto his twin bed, shaking his head at the ceiling. "This sucks. I really want to, you know, actually aid them, for once. Instead of...well, failing miserably at assisting Kurt with his efforts to get his mancake back."

"Did you really just say 'mancake'?" David asked seriously, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Huffing, Wes rose from his place on the bed and glared at David. "_Never mind _that, David. We have a bit of a problem!" he exclaimed, punctuating his sentence by throwing himself back onto the comforter.

Rolling his eyes for the second time since entering the room, David walked slowly over to where Wes lay, sprawled across the navy blankets. Appearing to choose his words carefully, he placed a hand on the knee of his best friend. "Listen," he began, and he saw Wes's eyes open, now fixed upon him as he turned his gaze to the floor. "I know that you want to help Kurt out with this really badly; I do, too." Pausing, he watched as Wes slowly sat up and put his chin in his hands, turning to him with a childishly glum expression. "However, Kurt can handle a few dares on his own. In fact," David said with a chuckle, shaking his head, "he can handle all of them. We can lend a hand anyways, but he'll do fine without our pathetic attempts at help for one day."

Wes appeared to absorb that for a moment, and David was visibly grateful for the newfound silence in the room as his best friend stared contemplatively at the bedspread. Tipping his eyes toward the ceiling, David waited out the silence, which he knew would be short-lived, before Wes spoke softly:

"Fine. But there's no way that we're not participating in tomorrow's," he grumbled, kicking at an invisible spot on the carpet. Suddenly, his head snapped up, and his gaze landed on the closed door of their room, an abruptly curious look on his face. "Where is Sebastian?"

…..

* * *

"…and that's why Blaine and I haven't been doing so well," Kurt was finishing his explanation to the women of New Directions, at the same time that Wes was twenty yards away and bemoaning his inability to participate in _The Love Dare_. He looked down at his lap, where he wrung his sweating hands together, as the roomful of teenage girls fell silent from their places on the floor.

The silence continued even as a few shouts sounded from the hall, and Kurt remembered the lacrosse game that had taken place shortly after classes had ended; said game had interrupted the Warblers practice schedule, therefore making it impossible to hold a rehearsal, to the disappointment of many non-athletic members of the glee club. Kurt, however, had found himself relieved at the prospect of being able to avoid Blaine for as long as possible, and had welcomed the cancellation.

On the contrary, he hadn't expected to be forced into relaying an account of his failing love life to a group of his former female glee club members.

Sighing internally, his turned his gaze from his knotted fingers to look at the surrounding girls, seeing the nearly identical expressions of shock and sadness on each of their faces. Kurt gave a start upon seeing Johnny seated between Brittany and Rachel, having forgotten his friend's presence amidst the rehashing of things better left unsaid and the unshed tears that blurred his vision.

He also noticed the odd, analyzing look on Johnny's face, and immediately knew the question behind that look: _Of all the things that you just told them, why didn't you mention The Love Dare_?

"Kurt, I'm sorry," Brittany finally said, breaking the silence and jolting Kurt out of his thoughts as she reached forward to pat his knee. Looking to Santana, whose face displayed obvious upset at the situation, the blonde bit her lip and loudly whispered, "Will the new one make it better?" She nodded to her right side, where Johnny was seated with a perplexed expression.

Kurt sighed, this time audibly. "Britt, Johnny is just my friend."

"Well, Santana and I used to be just friends, but we still-"

"O-kaaaaay, that's enough," Kurt interrupted her, as the girls around him reached up to cover their ears as if by reflex and Johnny's face became even more befuddled. _Sweet mother of all that is good and supposedly holy_, he thought, closing his eyes and willing away the repulsive mental images that filled his mind. "I don't want to hear about your pre-relationship, lesbionic sex." He paused, seeing a smirk curl onto Santana's lips, and quickly amended, "Or post-relationship, for that matter."

Kurt observed the way Santana rolled her eyes with a scoff, her face still maintaining a somewhat bitchy expression as she glanced tenderly at Brittany and linked their pinkies. He noted with dim surprise the change in the Latina's demeanor, so unlike her guarded, stiff posture from the year and a half they'd shared together in Glee club; of course, he'd seen Santana and Brittany since his moving to Dalton, but even after they'd gotten together months previously, he hadn't noticed how much she'd really transformed. Not to say that she wasn't still a fierce, sarcastic kind-of-bitch, but, seeing the way she looked at Brittany, Kurt's heart swelled and ached somewhat for he and Blaine to be able to look at each other like that again.

"So," Rachel began, interrupting his thoughts, and he jerked his head up to look at her. "What are you going to do about all of this?"

_Bluntness, thy name is Rachel Berry_, Kurt thought sardonically, inwardly sighing; leave it to Rachel to get right to the point. However, he knew that there was no way that he could trust so many gossipy girls with the knowledge of what he was doing to regain Blaine's affections, and therefore simply shrugged sadly at the other girl, hoping that his acting abilities would be enough to cover up his lie. "There's not really anything that I _could _possibly do," he answered, seeing the growing dismay on Rachel's face as Mercedes shot him a knowing look. "I'll just have to give him space and hope that he'll come to his senses."

Johnny was staring at him pointedly, an eyebrow raised, but Kurt ignored his gaze, watching as Rachel's face twisted into a frightening mix of anger and apparent sadness.

"Kurt, this is…this is terrible!" the diva exclaimed, shaking her head back and forth, before sweeping her bangs out of her eyes to stare earnestly at him. "I can't believe you're- you're just…giving up!"

"I'm not 'giving up', Rachel," Kurt countered with a sigh, reaching up to knead at his temple. "I'm being patient."

Rachel stomped her left foot, banging the floor so loudly that a few of the surrounding, morose girls gave a start. "Patience be damned! You need your man back!"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt slapped his palm to his forehead, reminded of why he'd not wanted to talk to anyone about his situation in the first place. _Rachel, if you weren't such a good singer, I'd rip your vocal chords from your throat, _he thought, watching as said girl continued to rant. He and Mercedes shared a look from across the circle of girls, and she simply shrugged, as if to say, _what can you do? _He jumped when Rachel stomped once again, her face contorted as she spoke too quickly for anyone to understand, and he suddenly wished that he had locked the door when he'd gotten out of class and come back to the dorm.

It was Santana who finally halted Rachel's tirade a few moments later, standing and putting a hand on her hip in front of the girl, one eyebrow raised as she looked her up and down. Rachel's mild rant tapered off into nothing as Santana stared her down, pursing her lips. Kurt glanced in Johnny's direction as the Latina stepped closer, the boy tensing up and watching with fearful eyes.

"_Perdoname_, short stack?" Santana questioned, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. "What the hell is wrong with you? I don't know about the rest of the ladies, but I'm just irritated by your little diatribe. We're here for Kurt no matter what he wants to do, and your pointless gassing is doing nothing. So kindly _callate la boca_, and sit your ass down."

Rachel's eyes were considerably wide as she stared back at Santana, and Kurt felt his heart swell for both of them. For Rachel, because, no matter how annoying and inescapable her constant nattering was, she really seemed to mean well. For Santana, because, as he watched her give a satisfied nod and take her seat once again, he noticed that change in her again; that change that he'd noticed when she'd looked at Brittany earlier, that slight difference that told him that this bitchy cheerleader who cared for no one but herself had, in fact, evolved into a lethal mix of lover and fighter.

_Or maybe the lover part was there all along_, he thought fondly, watching as she smiled softly at Brittany after the other girl put a hand on her shoulder.

Mercedes spoke up, then, and he quickly turned his attention back to his friend as she began, "So…we'd probably better get back."

Though he'd previously wished that the girls of his former Glee club had not intruded on his personal affairs, Kurt felt his face fall slightly as he realized how nice it was to see them again. "Going so soon?" he asked, his tone a little more pathetic than he would have liked.

"Well, we're having a Gleepover-" Tina piped up.

"-which is the most idiotic word_, ever_," Santana interrupted, glancing at her sideways.

Tina cleared her throat, shooting a quick glare in the other girl's direction before continuing, "Anyways, the girls of the club are all staying at Quinn's. We have one of those 'boys against girls' assignments, and we want to win, so we're going to practice there."

Having raised an eyebrow midway through her explanation, Kurt turned to face Mercedes. "You're having it at _Quinn's_?" he asked with mild disbelief, still able to remember the blonde's slight standoffishness even after nearly a year apart.

Before Mercedes could answer in the affirmative, Quinn spoke up from the other side of Lauren. "Yes, we're having it at my house. Surprised?" the blonde asked, a challenging look on her face, and tossed a glance to Rachel. When Kurt simply shrugged in response, the girl rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Well, on that note," Johnny said awkwardly, speaking for the first time since Kurt had finished relaying the details of his failing relationship with Blaine, "I'd better get to the library. I've got to read _The Odyssey _for English, and Mrs. Jenson isn't supplying the copies."

"Was that the one written by the chubby, yellow guy?" Brittany asked, her brows furrowing. Receiving only a few shakes of the head from various surrounding girls, she shrugged as Johnny only stared in incredulous confusion and Santana muttered to herself in Spanish.

Johnny finally broke the small silence by clearing his throat and standing, giving a small wave to the girls that surrounded him. "I'd best be going, so-" he paused, turning to Kurt, "-um, good luck with that…erm, _thing _that you have to do."

Nearly rolling his eyes at Johnny's words, Kurt nodded at his friend as he slipped out of the door, leaving it slightly ajar. _Be a bit more obvious_, Kurt thought, before shaking his head the slightest bit.

Quinn suddenly stood, her white sundress swishing around her knees as she twisted to look at the other girls in the room meaningfully. She bit her lip and looked briefly around herself at Rachel. Flipping her hair over her shoulder and pulling on a light blue cardigan, she raised her eyebrows at her fellow club members, before turning to Kurt with an apologetic look on her face. "We really should be going," she told him, her eyes remorseful. "My mom- she wants us back by seven, and it's a two-hour drive…"

"No, it's completely understandable," Kurt said, dismissing the indirect apology by holding out his palms toward the girl. "You girls go ahead and have your…your 'Gleepover'. Sounds like lots of fun."

Hoping that he'd not sounded bitter as he'd spoken those last words, Kurt watched as Quinn nodded gratefully and the rest of the young women stood. The blonde slowly walked to the door as the other New Directions ladies filed over to bid him farewell with varying degrees of affection. However, Kurt was not offended by the lack of a physical goodbye from the Quinn herself; he knew that she wasn't exactly a very affectionate person, and was therefore contented by the small wave that she supplied as she led the horde of girls from the room.

After receiving a final whispered, "Good luck", from Mercedes, he watched her close the door behind herself, simply staring at the wood for a good twenty seconds before heaving a great sigh.

_I didn't realize how much I missed them_, he thought, feeling his heart sink in his chest at the awareness of how long he'd gone without really being with his friends from McKinley. _Too bad I had to lie to them after going so long without seeing them all,_ he thought sarcastically, remembering how he'd avoided speaking of The Love Dare whilst discussing Blaine with the girls. However, he knew that that was the only way to keep everyone from meddling, and sighed resignedly as he flopped onto Johnny's bed.

"Pull yourself together, Hummel," he grumbled to himself, even as he felt pressure behind his eyes. _Let's keep our eyes on the prize, shall we? _"You have too much to worry about, don't add your old friends to the mix."

But, at the same time, Kurt _wanted _to wallow in self-pity over his lack of contact with the girls of New Directions; not only that, but also mentally go over every agonizing moment of his life and just _cry_. He wanted to know why he deserved losing his friends over school bullies, a dead mother, having his father _nearly_ die, and having the person who meant most to him in life be unwilling to continue speaking to him. It frustrated him to no end that these things kept piling on, different variations of misery that, he guessed, would eventually crush him.

"Now you're just being overdramatic," Kurt scoffed to himself, though his voice was thick and his eyes were burning with unshed tears, before rolling over onto his stomach. Folding his arms under his face, he shook his head slightly, feeling the rough material of his blazer brushing the smooth skin of his forehead.

He had been lying down in silence for a few moments, only his thoughts keeping him company, when he heard a tentative knock on the door.

Shooting up at the sudden noise, Kurt wondered distractedly as to whom it could be, while simultaneously trying to swipe away the few tears that had fallen moments previously. He stood up, contemplating the odds of it being Blaine with a small frown on his face; after all, the girls had left mere minutes ago, and Johnny was in the library. Who the hell else could it be?

Another knock sounded on the door, and he called, "I'm coming!" Shaking his head, he scolded himself for moving so slowly out of fear, before opening the door to reveal Quinn.

His brow furrowing, Kurt looked the girl up and down, wondering why in the world she was back at Dalton after only having been gone for a few minutes. A small frown of confusion on his face, he tilted his head slightly, noting how out-of-breath she looked; as if she'd sprinted up the three flights of stairs to his room.

"Um, yes?" he asked, his voice betraying his bafflement, and Quinn smiled apologetically at him.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I know that after that…_talk_, you probably want to be alone," she said, looking at him as if she were gauging his reaction. "But I forgot my purse."

Kurt nodded in comprehension, finally allowing himself to let out a silent sigh of relief; he kept reminding himself that it was ridiculous to worry about Blaine having found out about his trip to First Church of God (because, really? Anne had given her word that she wouldn't speak of it, and he doubted that the redhead he'd been seated by paid enough attention to him to notice anything worth mentioning), but couldn't help how nervous the thought made him. What if Blaine _had _seen him, and thought that he was trying to get him back by pretending to convert to Christianity, or something similar? That would not only make him seem desperate, but would most likely offend Blaine as much as the comment Kurt had made weeks before about the similarities between him and his father.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts as he remembered that Quinn was still standing in front of him, a now contemplative and slightly worried expression on her face; presumably a reaction to his zoning out. Clearing his throat loudly, he mustered a tight smile and opened the door more widely, gesturing for her to enter. "Do you remember where you left it?" Kurt asked, and nearly facepalmed upon registering exactly what he'd just said; the room was just shy of the size of a middle-class, American living room, and, as he glanced around, he saw a floral-print bag sitting at the base of the nightstand.

Feeling an odd sensation in his stomach, he felt his eyebrows pulling together as Quinn strode over to the large purse sitting on the ground.

Bending down, she grabbed ahold of the thick faux-leather strap before standing up. Kurt watched as she rifled through a couple of the open outside pockets (_for crying out loud_, he thought to himself, _I didn't _take _anything!_), and accidentally pulled a few loose pieces of scrap paper out of the pocket closest to Kurt.

As the papers fluttered to the floor, Kurt felt another twist in his stomach, and only realized when they landed in front of the nightstand exactly what the cause behind his abdominal response was.

_The Love Dare's_ corner was sticking out from under the bedside table.

He knew that he was too late to stop Quinn as she cursed to herself and, once again, bent over to retrieve her personal belongings from the floor.

Wincing, he braced himself as she froze, holding her squatting position to purse her lips. A few moments passed as she simply sat there, and Kurt knew that her eyes were trained on the part of the title that was clearly visible from where he stood.

_Please, just let it be_, he pled fiercely in his mind, as if willing the girl to stand up like she hadn't noticed anything, and hoping desperately that she didn't recognize the book; surely not _every _Christian was familiar with _The Love Dare_, right?

_Wrong_, Kurt thought in a semi-panic -though he knew that the statement couldn't be completely true- as he watched Quinn reach for the brown paperback before pulling it out from under its hiding place. He felt his eyes widen as the blonde girl on the floor simply ran her manicured nails over the cover for a moment, staying silent for a moment before speaking.

"Kurt," she muttered softly, and stood slowly. She turned to him, raising the book into the air, her eyes betraying slightly angry confusion. "Kurt, what is this?"

His voice caught in his throat, his mind racing. _She's going to tell everyone, and Blaine is going to find out, and this will all have been for nothing_, he thought wildly, trying to simultaneously summon the correct lie to easily get him out of the situation. However, what came out instead was, "Please, don't tell anyone."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow, her expression puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I don't want anyone to find-"

"No," she interrupted him with a quick shake of her head. "I mean, why are you doing this?" Punctuating the end of her sentence by nodding at the book in her hand, Quinn fell silent as she waited for an answer.

Kurt found himself tripping over his words in his mind, because _no, this isn't happening, she's going to tell _everyone. Flying into a state of internal frenzy, he scrambled for an explanation that would seem plausible, before he blurted, "I'm trying to make Blaine fall in love with me again."

Eyes widening, Quinn fell silent, and Kurt mentally kicked himself. Of _course_ he would blow the whole plan to hell right when things were looking up. He began to chew on his lower lip as he took in Quinn's stunned expression. _Way to go, Hummel._

"Kurt," she began softly after a few moments of silence, her voice thick with surprise and what sounded like disbelief. "I don't think you understand what you're dealing with." Holding up 'The Love Dare', she took a deep breath. "You can't just do this and not- and not expect to-"

Feeling a twinge of anger, Kurt interrupted her by raising his hand, palm outward. "Not expect to what, exactly?" he asked, voice becoming heated as he was reminded of the previous year, when the blonde had made insensitive, religious remarks while his father had been in the hospital. He was so tired of people treating him like _shit_, and he felt his growing rage propel him forward. "Expect to become a Christian or something?" he snapped, and then continued before he could stop himself. "Gay people can be Christians, too, you know."

He immediately wanted to shove the words back in; it sounded like something Anne would say. He really didn't mean to let it out, and now she was probably thinking that Kurt was just using 'The Love Dare' because he was some born-again Christian. _Damn, I need a Tylenol_, he thought, reaching up to rub at his temple.

However, instead of the enthusiastic 'you believe in God, now?' that Kurt was expecting, he heard Quinn make a low noise in her throat. Looking up, he saw that her face was slightly red, her eyes shining slightly. Confused and mildly afraid, he took a step forward, calm this time in his approach. "Quinn…"

"You don't think I know that?" she asked huskily, her hands shaking as she seemed to be fighting to keep composure. "You don't think that I, of all people, know that?"

Perplexed, Kurt felt his eyebrows crease. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Quinn barked out a harsh, cold laugh. "God, you're just as oblivious as the rest of them," she muttered tremulously, heaving a sigh. She reached up to thread her fingers through her hair, her mouth forming a thin line before she spoke again. "I think you and I both know what it means."

Aside from being shocked at her use of sacrilegious profanity, Kurt could only manage to feel completely mystified. "What are you-" he started, before suddenly halting.

Oh.

_Oh._

"I see you understand now," Quinn interrupted his epiphany conversationally, picking lightly at her dress. Unmindful of Kurt's expression of complete astonishment, she continued, "It took me a while to get used to it, too."

He snapped his head up to look at her, vision blurry from how wide his eyes had been open. "But- you're- how?" he asked. _Quinn Fabray is actually- actually- I need to sit down_, he told himself, and proceeded to do so.

"A year ago." When he didn't respond to this, she took another breath, rolling her eyes. "It was after Sam asked me out. He kissed me- _really _kissed me- and we started making out for the first time." She paused to collect her thoughts, hollowing out her cheeks. "I- I couldn't understand what was _wrong _with me. I thought maybe…maybe it had just been Finn and Puck, that I just wasn't attracted to them. I mean, you saw how we interacted- they were just popularity boosts. But, after Sam kissed me, I realized that I didn't _like _it. I didn't like him kissing me; I had never enjoyed a guy kissing me. And before I could stop myself, I wondered if I was…if I was gay."

"Holy _shit_," Kurt said in a hushed voice from his place on the bed. He was still completely dumbfounded; after years and years of her being head bitch in charge at McKinley, after a high school career built upon the quintessential Queen Bee cliché- Quinn was finally, really _human_ to him. She suddenly seemed fallible- because for the first time, Quinn was more uncertain of herself than he had ever seen, even during Babygate.

For some reason, it made her seem even stronger.

Quinn was nodding sheepishly, her face finally turning back to its normal color. "Yeah, I know."

A sudden question forming in his mind, Kurt looked up at her. "But…what convinced you? Made you sure?" Even as he asked, the idea was suddenly making an eerie sort of sense; the lack of PDA when she and her few boyfriends hung out in the halls, her loyal commitment to the celibacy club, the fact that she had slept with Puck under the influence of alcohol and momentary insecurity. Hell, even her drawing pornographic pictures of Rachel in the girls' bathroom. It all suddenly seemed _logical_, and he couldn't believe that no one had ever wondered if Quinn Fabray was really all that she appeared to be.

He was removed from his train of thought when he noticed Quinn blushing furiously, and he cringed internally. "Oh my God, did you hook up with Santana?"

"No!" Quinn exclaimed, her face twisting in apparent horror. "It wasn't…it wasn't Santana that made me realize- that- it was someone else."

"Holy hell," Kurt said, gaping. "Brittany? Because she does have a nice body- for a girl, I mean- but Santana will _kill _you-"

"Kurt-"

"-or maybe Mercedes? You _did _live at her house, after all, and she's pretty fabulous-"

"It was Rachel," Quinn offered up quietly, but Kurt remained completely oblivious as he began ticking off names on his hand.

"-let's see, not Tina, you two have barely spoken. Maybe that nice girl on the Cheerios-"

"KURT!" she shouted, grabbing his arm in a more assertive gesture than he'd seen from the girl since her epic bitchfight with Santana.

Looking slightly dazed, he finally turned his gaze back to hers. "What? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening." He noticed that eyeroll that he got in return, the one that seemed to say 'no shit', and he quirked his head. "What were you saying?"

"It was…Rachel," Quinn murmured, looking down and biting her lip.

Kurt frowned slightly. "What was Rachel?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Quinn closed her eyes. "She was the one that made me realize that I was…that I was…"

They both fell silent momentarily, and Kurt's mind raced to connect the dots. _Pornographic illustrations, the torture, the nicknames, the insults_-

"You're in love with Rachel Berry?" Kurt found himself asking, voice devoid of any emotion due to the short-circuiting of his brain. He was sure that he would properly analyze the situation in a few hours. Right now, his head was just beginning to ache.

Quinn swallowed. Picked at a cuticle.

_Quinn Fabray is in love with Rachel Berry_.

_She has _got _to be screwing with me._

But the look on her face told a different story.

"You're in love with Rachel?" he asked again, softer this time. Compassionate, caring, because oh, wow- she was going to need a lot of it. He remembered the way Rachel had looked at Finn the last time he'd seen them together, and he blanched at the thought of how Quinn must have felt. _Bless her heart_.

"It's not important," Quinn answered. Kurt's heart seized up as he saw that she was avoiding his eyes. "What's important-" she began, and Kurt noticed that she was still gripping the paperback guide to his repossession of Blaine's heart. "- is that you need to understand that this isn't a joke, Kurt. We don't need to talk about me anymore."

Though he knew that she was just changing to subject to evade his attempts to discuss Rachel, he allowed her this one pass. "Quinn, I know that it's not a joke. It's my only chance of getting Blaine back. I would _never _treat it like that."

"I know, Kurt, but I am talking about the _religious _aspect. As far as I know, unless you've suddenly taken a literal leap of faith, you're still an atheist." She stops for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts. "And I'm not even saying that you shouldn't be doing it because of that. I'm saying that…that you can't just half-ass your way through this."

Kurt stiffened. "With all due respect, Quinn, I don't think you know anything about my efforts-"

"No, Kurt, that's not what I mean. I mean that you can't just skip all of the spiritual stuff and go straight to the wooing. It doesn't work like that."

"We have been over this," Kurt began tiredly. "I don't even _believe _in God, Quinn."

Quinn nodded. "I know that. It's just that you need to go through with it- the whole thing- if you want to make a difference. Just because you don't believe in God doesn't mean that you couldn't learn from the experience. I mean-" she laughed lightly "- look at how much I've changed from being around you and Santana and Britt. I wasn't even worried about reconciling my faith with my sexuality by the time I realized that I was gay. Because you showed me that everything isn't just black and white."

He considered that for a moment. Really considered it. Quinn _did _have a point. Even though he knew that he wasn't going to be sold on the whole Jesus thing, he admitted that it could be good for him to gain a new respect for Christianity. Kurt had grown a lot since being the shaking boy beside his father's hospital bed. And, though he was solid in his beliefs, he figured that Quinn was raising another point by saying that he should do the whole thing; if he were to pick and choose which dares he actually wanted to do, he already wouldn't have done half of them.

"Okay," Kurt conceded, nodding. "I'll do the whole thing."

Quinn smiled. "Good. I swear that I am not trying to convert you- I'm not that girl anymore."

Kurt laughed at her choice of words. "Oh, Quinn," he began, smiling, "I thought that it was against the Bible to swear?"

…

**So, how was it?**

**Once again, I'm a bit rusty. With this story, first of all, but also with past-tense. I've been writing present-tense for the last eleven months. If you knew how many times I accidentally switched tenses while writing this, you'd probably call me an idiot.**

**I hope you enjoyed the abundance of Quinn. I've come to ship Faberry VERY hard, and, though it most likely won't become canon in this story, I enjoy the one-sided angst quite a bit. Also, I'm pretty sure that after "On My Way" and all of the delicious subtext this season, we're all pretty convinced that Quinn is 100% gay.**

**Also, another side note: if anyone would like to find me on Tumblr, just message me; I'm not comfortable with posting it due to the fact that some family members have access to this website.**

**So yeah. I told you guys that I wouldn't give up on this story. And it took a while, but I'm finally back. Buckle in, kids.**


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